


Turning Back

by prettylittlepetticoats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Sansa Stark, Endgame Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Established Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Are Not Related, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are Cousins, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, King Jon Snow, Love, Magic, Married Couple, Married Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, POV Jon Snow, POV Sansa Stark, Pain, Romance, Time Travel, Warg Jon Snow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22406017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlepetticoats/pseuds/prettylittlepetticoats
Summary: It was an impossible idea born from pain, and yet, somehow the impossible became a reality. Now they are back, they have a chance to change things, to forge a path into the future that was better than before, to forge a world that was better than before. However, with turning back the clock comes consequences they hadn't even considered. {timetravel}
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 95
Kudos: 392





	1. Idea

**Author's Note:**

> helloo
> 
> as I said on another fic I usually write on FF but was encouraged to post here as well, so far I am loving it! I am still getting used to the site but it is working great. 
> 
> pls let me know what you think of this story, it is hard to write but veryyyy rewarding.  
> this has book/show elements, and is probs 70% book/30% show. also has lots of twists/deaths/angst/sprinkling of fluff and leaves canon p quickly. 
> 
> anywho, pls enjoy and lemme know if you do, feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> songrecs: leave the light on - tom walker

"This will work"

Famous last words one might say. When was the last time anyone had said those words preceding something that worked? When was the last time those words had ended in jubilation and success? Not despair and misery? When was the last time he had said those words only to be met with disappointment? Honestly, he didn’t want to think about those words, the certainty in which he tried to say them, but with a tinge of doubt tacked onto the end.

It had been her idea, and Jon as always listened to her. Jon was good at killing, too good, and he could handle war, strategy, tactics, hell he could even navigate the politics when he had to, but not like her. She thrived in politics, and she actually liked it, unlike him; he may be good at it but he despised the lies, the cunning and the skulking in the shadows, he always felt like a fraud when doing so. He had discarded his own personal honour again and again, and each time he never liked it. And so when it came to politics Jon was happy to defer to her, and when she had come to him with this plan, this insane, crazy plan he had of course taken it in stride and followed her, as he always did, as she did to him. It had worked out for them so far … which begged the question as to why they were doing this? Everything was finally good, peaceful, so why were they trying to change things? To fix something that seemingly wasn’t broken.

Yet it was for so many reasons, so many reasons they had communicated to one another. It had all started one night, about two months ago, when they had been sat in front of the fire, bowls of soup warm in their hands; just as it had been when they had reunited. She had his cloak around her shoulders and was snuggled into it, winter was biting, even for them, and the fire had provided little relief. And so, they had moved closer together, warming one another, her breath warm on his neck, his fingers dancing over her shoulder, and spoke of times long gone, as they often did.

She had spoken of their time as children, when she had snuck into the kitchen to steal lemon cakes and Uncle had caught her with a barely contained smile. He had spoken of their time as teenagers, sparring with Robb and running around with Bran. She had spoken fondly of the rare times she and Arya had gotten along, he had spoken of when Rickon had been born and they had all promised to protect the youngest of the pack. So many memories, so many beautiful memories they reminisced upon time and time again. They had spoken of finding the direwolfs, of Lady and Ghost, the latter curled at their feet, the former long gone. After that the nostalgia had come to a pause; it seemed everything after that day had gone wrong. Everything after the King had come to Winterfell had ended in utter misery, and there had been no turning back from that point on, a point that had almost defined the Stark family, in scattering the pack for good.

"I wish we could go back" She had said gently, tears biting at her eyes then, he could see the sapphire orbs glisten, and if he was the kind to cry he would have been right there with her, only he hadn't cried in years, he could still feel her sorrow, as it was his own too, but still no tears would come for him, not anymore.

"Me too" He had responded before putting his arm around her and placing a kiss to her forehead. They had held onto one another tightly for a few moments, before she had spoke again, her tears suddenly gone, and instead the look of passionate belief in her eyes (that quite frankly unsettled him) appeared. The look that often preceded some scheme of hers, a look he had long become used to and yet still made him feel uneasy, for seeing it he knew she was about to drag him into some plan of hers, and as always he would agree.

"What if we could go back?" She had said, her entire face alight then, a look of sheer hope on her face that he had not seen in a very, very long time. His own expression had been wary, confused ... what was she talking about?

"Sansa, what do you...? Are you okay?" He had started the question but then she had stood in a whirl to her feet, his cloak dropping to the floor, leaving her in only her white nightgown, but she either hadn't felt the cold or managed to ignore it... how he was unsure, but he did know Sansa, he knew when she set her mind to something she was a force to be reckoned with, and wouldn't be stopped, no matter the circumstance. Often, he didn't argue with her on such points, but now? He frankly had no idea what to say, or what she was getting at. He had asked if she were okay but she didn’t even acknowledge his concern for the moment, too caught up in whatever mad idea she had.

"Jon, after everything we've seen, everything we've faced?" It was then he twigged where she was going with this, and he too stood to his feet to take her hands in his, to stop her getting carried away with herself, to try and calm her from this ludicrous thought she'd concocted. He could understand it, of course he could, but it didn't make it any less unlikely, didn’t make it any less insane. "Are you telling me this isn't possible?!"

"Sansa" He had heard the condescending tone to his voice as he said it and had winced at the sound before shifting his tone to one of comfort, but firm, "Some things are out of our reach, some things ... they just can't be done" To their dismay, many things were out of reach for them, as much as they may wish otherwise, some barriers couldn’t be broken.

"But can you tell me Jon, can you tell me point blank this can't be done? After everything we've seen? The Others? You coming back from the dead? Giants and the Children and all manner of creatures?! And you're saying this is out of reach?" She had asked, her face almost crazed, and yet he knew why ... what she was asking to be done, it was something they had dreamed about, something that if could be accomplished would be worth every sacrifice to do so. He too had felt a flare of hope, but Jon was not an optimist, not like she could sometimes be. His time at the Wall and then countless war had crushed any slither of optimism in him, he was a cynic through and through now, and Sansa was the one to hope.

"No I can’t, but Sansa ... it sounds impossible, completely and utterly impossible, some things are simply beyond our reach" He had tried to be gentle, not wanting to upset her and yet having to remind of her reality, this couldn’t be done, it was insane to even wish.

And yet she had seemed unperturbed, not even slightly shaken by his words before saying, "Sounds impossible Jon, not is impossible" And then she had planted a kiss on his cheek before hurrying off. He had followed, grabbing his own cloak off the floor to take to her. The castle had been dead at that time of night, so she needn't worry about anyone seeing her in nothing but her nightgown, but the cold was bad enough to sting. So, he had followed her, to the library, where they had stayed all night researching, and had done so the next night and the night after. He wasn't sure how she'd convinced him, and yet he had become as committed as she, mainly because he didn’t want to snuff that hope away that she had decided to cling onto, even if he couldn’t quite hope himself.

For months they had survived on minimal sleep, running their Kingdom during the day and then researching at night. Most nights they fell asleep in one another's arms but with books still strewn over their bed. They sifted through forgotten tombs and scrolls in High Valyrian (thankfully Jon was proficient enough), they wrote pages of notes and throughout it remained with the same attitude. Sansa with her continued hope, and Jon with his thinly veiled cynicism. Initially Jon hadn't entertained the idea, and yet Sansa's eternal optimism had stuck with him, and each night though he convinced himself he was doing this for her, part of him was going along with it as the weeks passed … not hoping, that was too strong a word for Jon’s quiet contemplation on the matter. He couldn’t hope, but he could hold on to hers.

Now they had become transfixed on the idea they couldn't stand to let go. And so, the research had continued night after night, they shouldered the responsibilities of the day, and then at night dedicated themselves to their research. It was crazy, this had all come from an errant thought and yet they had dedicated themselves to it fully, as though this were their lives purpose. The idea of it, the hope was too much to give up on, even with each book producing nothing, and each plan down the drain, they continued to hope ... and then finally two months earlier Sansa had hit a thought.

"What if what we want isn't in a book?" Sansa had said aloud one night in the library, it had been a weary day at court, and Jon had near been falling asleep over an ancient Valyrian scroll on patterns of time, when Sansa had spoken and he had looked across at her. If anyone could rouse him from near slumber it was Sansa, and she knew it as she smiled at him.

"What do you mean?" He had asked, his accent thick with tiredness. He had felt ready to drop, and yet though months of little sleep may have been catching up with him he wasn't ready to give up, not yet, not after they'd committed so much time, not after he had promised her he would keep trying, Jon kept his promises, particularly to his wife. As well as that they had seen some promising accounts, and that drove them forward, as thin as the accounts were. With each night, they felt as though they were getting closer, and that kept them going, that kept them up each night researching, trying and hoping … well at least that kept Sansa going, for Jon it was her that kept him trying; if Sansa wanted something he would do everything and anything to give it to her.  
"What if we need to find someone who knows of this? Not rely on books?" She said, her face almost inquisitive in her idea. He too knew he looked puzzled for a moment - find someone? Who could possibly harness the power of what they wished to do? Who could possibly hold such abilities?

He had felt his blood run almost cold then, as it always did when he thought of her and what she had done for him. He would never regret what she did, he would never hold her in contempt for it, but he knew it hadn't been normal, he hadn't felt quite right since. Yes, he was himself, but not whole, never again; as though a part of him had been chiselled away when he had been pulled back from wherever he had been. The Red Woman had pulled him back from the unknown darkness and since then part of him had been missing, a small part yet, but a part all the same. And as much as he loathed to see her again, he knew Sansa was right. If she had been capable of dragging him back from death, what else was she capable of?

It wasn't out of the realm of possibilities, was it? And as soon as he had mentioned this to Sansa her eyes had lit up, renewed with a fresh hope that had been dwindling; as though they had never given up and had constantly felt as though they were getting closer ... it wasn't easy; each week passing without results. But then, this had been a new lead, a new way forward, and as soon as he suggested it she had set to work writing the raven scroll to the southern court, and an hour later the raven had flown; inviting the red witch to the northern court for the first time since the war.

She had happily headed the call, and a month later they had laid out their proposal to her. His Hand had protested at her coming to their court but Jon always surprisingly good at diplomacy had soothed his worries. And so, they had discussed with her for a while, laying out all possibilities. They had been uplifted that she had heard of such magic’s but could not perform them herself. It had been a start, it had been something, and that had triggered the next stage of their journey.  
And that had led them here.

Weeks of consulting with those across the sea, weeks of securing items, of working everything out and finally they were here, in front of the ancient Weirwood tree of the Winterfell Godswood, dressed in black, everything in place, the snow was ever falling, and they both shivered from the cold.

It had seemed ludicrous now they were here and yet as they had joined hands, hers shaking and his steady they knew this was their shot, this was their chance. They had worked for the better part of a year towards this, the chance to change things, the chance to turn back the clock. And now they were here, and she uttered those words.

"This will work"

And though he should have responded with something positive he couldn't help but blurt out the words he had been thinking for weeks, the thoughts that had been biting at the back of his mind since she had convinced him to start down this path. It had been annoying him for weeks on end, eating at him and yet he hadn't said a word, not wanting to upset her, not wanting to worry her, but now? Now they were here, at the end of the journey? He couldn't hold back his thoughts as much as he tried.  
"But should it?"

He watched as she bit down on her lip, evidently she had thought the same and yet she spoke without any doubt, "This is what we've been working for, this is what we wanted, to turn back the clock"

"But what if we forget? What if we go back and we're not us anymore? What if we don't remember this future?” He said ... “The Red Woman said it's a possibility, what if the possibility comes true?" He asked in almost a whisper, "What if you go back to looking at me with contempt? What if I go back to not speaking to you? What if ..." He paused then, his real worry that had been eating at him finally coming out, "What if you marry someone else?"

And then her face softened, and she walked to him, still clutching his hand. She was within an inch of him, and her lips brushed against his for a mere moment, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, "That will not happen, we will remember, we will change things, that is why we are doing this. We will remember, we will change things" She paused then to give him a proper kiss, and he felt his worries melt away at both her words and her touch, she sounded so sure, how could he not believe her?, "And I will always be yours, in this life, the next and the past, I will always be yours Jon”

"As I am yours Sansa, always" He repeated back to her, and he felt a hint of a smile pull at her lips, and his expression mirrored hers. She waited, waited for him to nod, and he did, and then they turned back to the weirwood tree, clutching each other’s hands so tightly they were almost one, it was time, it was now or never.

The hour struck midnight and he spoke the words the Red Woman’s friend had taught them, the woman who had worn a veil over her face and told them she had been waiting for them when they met. The prophet had called him a Prince and Sansa a Queen, when Sansa had corrected the prophet that Jon was a King the woman in the veil had simply laughed. She had taught them the words, instructed them how to make a paste that they dashed across one another’s foreheads, had sourced them a knife that they both used to slash across their palms, and wished them luck before cocking her head and laughing again … she had disappeared then and not exactly installed them with confidence.

And yet they followed the steps she had given, the words they didn’t understand, the paste made from weirwood sap and ashes of a flame he had bled into, their blood then trickling onto the weirwood bark and the ground at their feet. The clock ticked past the midnight hour and they both fell to their knees, and waited, waited.

“Nothings happening” Sansa said and he could hear the tears in her voice, and yet he didn’t move to comfort her, as he could see, see past the weirwood tree, see over the hill … a smoke, a thick black smoke coming for them, that moved too quickly and made everything crumble in its wake. As Sansa bowed her head and let out a sob, he shook her hand in his, yanked her towards him and spoke.

“It worked” He said almost in awe and then he heard her gasp as she saw what he was seeing; the world melting around them, the thick black smoke turning everything to ash in a way they both knew wasn’t natural. It had worked, and Jon pulled Sansa to him, pulled her close and to his chest. “Close your eyes Sansa” He said simply and he knew she did, as he closed his too, and waited, waited, as the smoke surrounded them both, and he felt them lift off the floor, heard Sansa’s gasp of fear and hope, he waited, waited, eyes squeezed shut, face turned into Sansa’s hair, they waited, waited, until they heard a clap of thunder, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts? 
> 
> this idea was to do time travel in a cool way, justify it but also have it go completely off the rails as well so yeh, I think I achieved that? 
> 
> so what do we think? hopefully you enjoy! as you can see this fic will very clearly be jon/sansa (don't even start with people saying its incest), but other pairings will be involved. this will be a dark fic, with more intertwined magic into the world of thrones, the future will change but not necessarily for the best, but you'll see that as we go along! hopefully you're onboard! 
> 
> pls lemme know your thoughts, comments are like fairy dust to me - to be cherished ^^
> 
> speak soon


	2. Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omggg I received such an awesome response to the first chapter and wanted to get this up asap. also in my haste I uploaded it to the wrong fic so ignore that pls. 
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter, lemme know if you do. 
> 
> songrecs: when the party's over - billie eilish.

The darkness consumed all, every inch of their world, it didn't stop, it didn't hesitate, and it was the very last thing she saw before Jon pulled her to his chest to shield her from whatever they had called forth. Even as she had closed her eyes against the unrelenting darkness, she almost felt it around her, ripping everything away, turning it all to ash and dust. Both fear and hope consumed her at the same time, as the darkness swallowed all around them. It was almost suffocating, and yet as afraid as she was, Sansa knew deep down it would be okay; she was with Jon, her husband, he would keep her safe, he would ensure she met no harm.

It felt like hours passed, with the darkness surrounding them, but in reality, it was only minutes, it took only minutes for the world to fall in on itself, for the world they knew to fall away. The words they had chanted, their blood spilled on the banks of the weirwood. It took only minutes for their decision to change everything.

It had been a long journey getting here, and yet Sansa had never lost hope, had never allowed the continual failures and setbacks to break her spirit. She had known it would be possible, she had known it was something that could happen in this world so filled with magic. She had shaken off Jon's cynicism, had accept the sleeplessness nights if it meant they could achieve what they had so hoped for. It had come with risks, and even she had almost had cold feet at the end, but it was worth it, she was so sure it was worth it, if they could achieve what they had so hoped … it was worth it.

And as the darkness pooled around them, and she clutched Jon as tightly as her arms would allow, all she could hope, all she could think, all she could plead with the gods, was that it had worked.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she knew it was different. She wasn't sure how it was different or how she instantly knew it was, but she knew it was different, she just knew.

For one it was warmer than it had been, she had left behind the harsh winter for a much warmer climate, the North was always cold, but this felt like autumn, not winter. Second, she knew she was inside, on a bed, a soft bed, but a smaller one, she lifted her hand to the side and felt out, and realised it was a lot smaller than she was used to. She also felt different in herself, her body, her mind, and then it dawned on her … she remembered! When they had been preparing this, when they had been planning it, the uncertainty had always been there; would they remember? Would they come back only to forget all they had experienced? Well that question answered itself now! She remembered! And with that realisation her eyes shot open and she sat up on her bed.

She was in her old room, the place of her childhood that she had so missed over the years, the place she had dreamed about time and time again. It was her own bedroom, with her own things, her dolls from her Father on the dresser, a stack of books on the end table, her own blanket, her own clothes hanging in the wardrobe. It was all here! With shaking hands, she pulled herself out of bed and walked to the wardrobe mirror.

As soon as she saw her own reflection she almost felt as though her knees would buckle. She was young once more. Not a day past her 14th nameday! A small squeak left her lips as she took in her appearance; a teenager once more. Part of her was saddened, that she had lost the body of a woman, that she had been reverted to the cusp of childhood … and yet, a bigger part of her was happy. Surely this meant one thing?! Surely this meant she had returned! Surely this meant their plan had worked!

It was almost too much for her, the reality of it all, and she felt her knees buckle beneath her, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. Soon she was kneeling on the floor of her old room, of the place that represented a childhood she had foolishly abandoned. And she was crying, not out of pain, not out of sadness, but out of sheer joy. This was it; this is what they had been hoping for, dreaming of, praying for, and it had worked!

But then she realised, it hadn't just been her plan … what about Jon? Fear flickered through her at an alarming speed, and her smile soon fell. What if he didn't remember? What if she was doomed to be back to where they had hoped for but only she knew of the future they had left behind? Her breathing came out in gasps then as the idea dawned on her, and she knew there was only one way to find out, only one way to find out if Jon … her Jon was lost to her … or to find out if it had all worked out perfectly, as they had so hoped.

With shaky leg's she stood herself up; she needed to get dressed, to go to Jon's room, by the armoury, separated from his cousin’s rooms. Anger flared up in her then, as it had many times over the past months … and she recalled one of their more difficult conversations when they had been preparing for this plan.

* * *

**Flashback**

_"Going back may be the right thing, the thing to reunite us all and change this future but Sansa …" Jon had paused then, as he often did when in deep thought, his face tensing as the ideas in his mind washed over him. Jon was a far better liar than his Uncle, and yet not quite as good as she. Still, they never lied to one another, never hid anything from one another and so she didn’t interrupt. Simply waited for what he would say. "Your past was much rosier than mine"_

_She had let out a small sigh then, before reaching across for his hand, taking it in hers, their golden rings glinting in the candlelight next to one another; simple bands, gold, with no etchings on his, but one small diamond on hers, bands they had exchanged whilst vowing their devotion to one another. Sansa still smiled when she thought of that day, when she looked at the rings. "Jon, I know that, but we'll change things, we'll make it better. I will not let my Mother …" She had paused too then, anger washing over her. She had always loved her Mother, always would, but now? Now she viewed Catelyn Stark with a very different view than she had held when a child, "I will make things better for you, as you will for me"_

_He had nodded then, letting it go for the moment. That was the whole point of this endeavour, to change things, and Sansa would be damned if she allowed Jon to be mistreated. They had always promised to protect one another, and Sansa had made herself another promise then, sitting at that table, hands clasped, his cloak around her shoulders, another promise._

_'I will make you happier' A simple promise, but one she had vowed to stand by … if their insane plan had ever panned out of course. She would not let him hurt, never again._

* * *

**Present**

She would stand by that promise, she thought to herself as her mind reeled back to the present. They had known this journey would be challenging, changing so much, doing so much, and yet they had both agreed it would be worth it, like cutting off a limb to save the rest of the body, sometimes sacrifices had to be made, in order to achieve what one wanted.

Sansa yanked herself back to the present then, she needed to get to Jon, to see him, to see if he was in the same mindset as she was. Cold fear trickled down her back as she worried, as her anxiety threatened to wrap around her throat and choke her, like the cold chilling hands of winter. She couldn't help but be fearful, fearful that Jon … her dearest Jon, wouldn't remember what they had shared, wouldn’t remember what they had become. That would be worse than anything, she was sure she would have rather died than lost Jon.

"Please Jon, please" She whispered to herself, as she stood in front of the mirror, her hands balled into fists at her sides, preparing herself to leave the room, to go to him, "Please remember"

"I could never forget"

Her heart stuttered as she heard those words whispered back to her, and she flew around to the door so fast she almost slipped. In the doorway stood Jon, her Jon. Yes, he looked different, younger, his hair a little longer, his beard shorter, still muscular, but less so… and yet to her he looked perfect. She could see it in his eyes, the way he held himself; like a man grown, this was her Jon. He was here, she could feel it, and she near cried out in surprise. This was her Jon, she knew it.

Instead a choked gasp left her lips, and her hands flew to her mouth, and the tears began again. It had worked! Everything they had hoped for had worked, and importantly it had all worked! They had returned, returned to the past to fix the mistakes that had been made, and yet they both remembered that future, that future that neither of them had wished to forget. They may have come back to change the future, but never what they had shared. Sansa would never change what they had shared.

"Oh Jon" She whispered back, and then they were running at one another, he ruffled, having clearly hurried to dress, and she in her nightgown still, and yet neither cared. Neither cared as they crossed the distance of her room in seconds, and she threw herself into his arms, her arms winding around his neck, his clasping around her waist. A strangled sob left her lips, and she heard his gasp … that this was real, this had happened, that she could feel him as she wrapped herself around him and he could feel her, this was real. They were home, and yet they were still together, it was everything they had dreamed of, everything they had hoped for. Sansa had not felt joy like this, true perfect unimpeded joy like this in years. She sobbed as she clung to him, and she heard him cough to cover up his tears as he held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. She held onto her beloved and revelled in the moment.

* * *

It took several minutes for her to let go of him, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he finally managed to place her on the bed and sit next to her, discreetly wiping his own eyes as he placed her down. Even then she couldn't remain unconnected, her hand remained clasped in his, her legs thrown over his, touching, always touching, warmth lighting up both of them. She knew she was smiling like a maniac, as was he. They had never dared hope things would work out this well, and it showed on their faces; the surprise, and yet the utter happiness that it had.

"We did it" He said, lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, and she found herself giggling, out of pure happiness. "We did it Sansa" She nodded then, clutching at him, still a little shocked, and yet none the less happy. They were both in shock, completely taken aback that it had worked.

"We did" She replied back, and that set him off laughing, and her own giggles followed, both were on a high too elevated to be serious for a moment, the shock turning into laughter. It was Jon who bought them back down; serious Jon, who only ever showed her, and a few select others his playful side. He indulged her for a few moments as she giggled and kicked her feet and clutched at him before pulling her too him with a smile, and her giggles came to an end. The words unspoken between them were of such gravity the laughter stopped as the shock peeled away:  
They had travelled back in time.

She had never really thought it out loud before, never voiced it. They had travelled back in time, reversing all the years of pain and suffering they had both felt, for her; being a captive in King's Landing, escaping to the Vale, escaping again this time from Baelish, making her way to the Wall, the Wildlings, the Others, the barely scraped victory, the loss, the suffering. For him; running to the Wall, the losses there, the Wilding's, the loss of his first love, the pain of betrayal, rising from the dead, and then the same barely scraped victory, and the loss and pain that followed. Now … none of that had come to be, they had reset the clock, the future they had lived and breathed and felt … that was gone now, they had turned things back. It was insane, and then Sansa let out a little gasp as she wondered, when was it?

She stood up from Jon’s embrace, and yet he was already a step ahead of her, looking at the calendar on her wall. She was thankful she had been organised even as a child, and she could see then they had come back to the time they had been aiming for; before the Kings arrival. It was about three weeks before the King would come to Winterfell to ask her Father to be his Hand. Three weeks before the Stark pack would be scattered forever, three weeks before she would be ripped away from her Jon … well that wasn’t happening now.

Sansa turned back to Jon then and the laughter between them had stopped, the smiles had faded. It all felt much more serious now, and she sat down next to him on the bed and took his hand, and he pulled her close once more … this was serious now. They had achieved their goal, and through the happiness of doing so they hadn’t even begun to think about the seriousness of the situation, of all they had to do. And so for a few moments the silence was heavy over them, heavy as they contemplated just what they had come back to do.

He couldn't quite believe it.

He had always been more cynical about this plan, mainly following it for Sansa's sake, never truly believing it would pan out but going along with things for his wife. And yet it had worked.

When he had awoken that morning, he had known where he was immediately. In truth, he had only taken a minute or two to mull it over, to accept this new reality, before panic had infiltrated his system. He had spent about a minute looking around his old room, not quite believing what he was seeing, before something much more pressing had hit him.

He had hurried, pulling on clothes, a tunic, breeches, boots, his cloak, he had barely glanced at himself in the mirror, annoyed at his smaller frame, and more boyish looks, but that still hadn't been his focus. He had barely been able to realise that Ghost was with him, as small as he could remember, before he had bolted out the door, ran across the yard, and made his way to Sansa's room. Because, yes, he was back, and that did fill him with joy, true joy, but he had known as he had hurried into Sansa's quarters … it would all mean nothing if his wife didn't remember him, if he was alone in this, it would mean nothing.

He had never felt luckier than when they had embraced, clear as day to both of them that everything had worked out; even the timing! Evidently the gods had been smiling down on them, and Jon had barely been able to stop smiling himself, even giving way to join Sansa’s infection laughter before pulling her close in joy. They had done it, truly done it, they had made it, and even though Jon was usually the more serious of the two, he had taken a moment just to pull Sansa into a hug, kiss her forehead, and hold her tight, before Jon pulled back. As much as he wished he could just bask in this for several hours, he knew they had to move on …  
They had things to discuss.

Even Sansa had fallen quiet, and as he looked at her, he could see that she felt the same, that this was serious; that neither of them had quite realised the seriousness of the situation. They had spent so much time planning to get back they hadn’t focused as much on what they would do when they came back. And so, for a moment the silence around them was hard, weighing down on them as they thought of what was to come, how much they had to do, how hard this would be. The silence went on for several minutes before Sansa turned to him, smiling again.

“Jon, I know this is astonishing, and we should be serious and work out a plan, but…” She paused and he smiled at her as she looked up at him, moved her hand to stroke his face. “For a few moments I just want to bask in this with you”  
It was almost like she was asking, and as much as Jon knew they should focus and plan, he could never deny his wife her happiness. And so with a roll of his eyes and a giggle from Sansa he pulled her to him, flopped back on the bed and bought her mouth to his in a kiss. Perhaps they could bask in this, just for a few minutes more…

An hour or so passed, and yet neither of them were inclined to move. He'd shifted to lie on his back, and her head rested on his chest, her finger stroking down the front of his tunic, his fingers playing with her hair, in a way he knew she both loved (because it felt so good), and hated (because it tangled her hair terribly). Both were clearly completely content, and though Jon had initially only planned to relax for a few minutes he didn’t want to move, and he knew Sansa was happy on his chest, and so he remained, a little smile on his face as his fingers played with her fiery locks.

"Jon" Her voice was music to his ears, even if it was a little more childish. Both of them had reverted to a younger age, both had lost the hard touch of adulthood, and yet as annoying as it was to have reduced strength, and to feel more like a boy than a man again, Jon knew it was worth it, just another small sacrifice to get them here, the place they had dreamed of. It was all worth it. “Jon” His name on her lips again, something he would never get sick of.

"No" He muttered back, and her felt her shakes of laughter against his chest before he heard her giggles. He too was smiling, still stroking her hair, "I know what you're going to say" He said, "So, how about we skip the serious part for the moment?" He said with a grin. He knew they needed to talk, to plan, to move forward, but as she had asked him he wanted the same for a few moments more; to simply bask in one another.

And so, a few moments more passed before he knew if he didn’t sit up and get serious, he would never move. He knew she felt the same, wrapped in his arms, he could even see her smiling when he looked down at her, and so with a groan followed by a whine from his wife’s lips he sat himself up and pulled her to sit up with him, though still close, her legs flung over his lap, his hands on her thighs.

"So" He knew he would need to begin. As much as he loved Sansa, and knew she was a better liar than he, he was also the one more likely to think of every detail, every possibility, every outcome, and they needed that now, Jon had a brain for considering ever angle, every possibility, which had always made him so skilled at combat. It would come in use now as well.

They had much to think over; how would they assimilate to all of this? How would they change things to ensure the Stark pack never scattered as it had? How would they stop the threats that had almost wiped them out before? How would they remain together? So much to consider, so much to cover.

"So" He began again, but then he heard a scuffle at the door and that had them jumping out of bed, their laziness and apathy disappeared. He knew he had a look of worry on his face, as did Sansa … they needed to give off the impression everything was the same, and he being here, in Sansa's room, her in her nightgown, he ruffled looking, would not give that impression. That was one key thing, they could hardly display a relationship to all of Winterfell, particularly when to everyone but his Uncle they were considered to be siblings.

Also trying to explain this away? During their childhood … at this age, the two had not been that close. She had looked down on him, Jon had known that, and he had mostly ignored her. They had not acted or been like siblings, and they couldn't change that now. Sure, they both knew things would change a little, and Sansa was determined that she would get her Mother to stop treating him poorly (though in truth he'd laughed at that, and asked her if she also planned to make him Lord of Winterfell before Robb … something she had not found funny, stomped on his foot and told him she would fix the issues Lady Catelyn had caused), but overall they had to give the same view … for the time being at least.

"Hello?" Sansa called out, both of them stood, now fraught with tension, however as no one answered, Sansa slipped around to the door, and he watched her every step, stepping back into the shadows, his eyes darting around the room for a weapon or a hiding place, as she yanked the door open.

And yet they needn't have worried, as Lady simply ran into the room, annoyed at being locked out of her mistresses' quarters, a snobby little look on her features that had Jon laughing as she trotted inside. For Lady, it was a minor grievance to be locked out, and yet Sansa near collapsed as her Direwolf (now very much alive), bounded into the room.

Jon rushed forward then, closing the door shut, and then hurrying to Sansa's side, ready to give comfort or support. But he was completely ignored, as Sansa wrapped her arms around (a now very confused) Lady, to hold her close, sobbing into her white and grey fur. Jon wasn't surprised in truth, Ghost had become enamoured with Sansa in the future they had left behind, and honestly though he had still been by Jon's side around the Castle, every night he had curled up at Sansa's feet, so close to her. Yet, to see her reunited with her own Direwolf warmed something in him, and he smiled down at her. He saw Ghost pad into the room behind Lady and he grinned as his own Direwolf, so small now as he settled down next to him.

It took several minutes of coaxing Sansa to release Lady, (who he had forgotten lived up to her name, and put with several minutes of Sansa crying over her, fussing over her and clutching her, only bounding off when Sansa released her, and only managing to look mildly annoyed), and get her sat back on the bed.

"God I missed her” Sansa said, wiping at the tears on her cheeks.

"I know" He responded with a smile, wiping away the tears she had missed, before smoothing a lock of her hair behind her ear, in a way he knew she liked, “And I’m happy for you. But we need to figure out how we’re going to reunite with the rest of the family without either of us breaking down” He said with a pointed look at Sansa. He still was better at checking his emotions than she was.

She nodded then, "Okay, so no crying when we see the rest of the family, no excessive touching or kissing between us as my Mother's head might explode, and oh, make sure we don't say anything we wouldn't say" She rattled off, and Jon nodded, before continuing himself.

"Also, no cryptic hints at the future, and try to act as normal as possible. And forget excessive touching, try and ignore me all together" He said with a nod, and she too nodded to him back though wrinkled her nose in displeasure at the idea of ignoring him. He still smiled though, wiping away the last of her tears.

He knew this would be hard, they had both known this would be hard, and yet they had tried their best to prepare for it, in any way possible. They had recounted what they had been like in their younger years, they had gone over their old interests and hobbies. Jon had told Sansa she would need to act in a more innocent fashion, and Sansa had reminded him that he would need to be careful on the practice field, now having more combat knowledge than likely anyone in Winterfell. Jon had reminded Sansa she would need to be more snobby, and Sansa had told him to be more brooding. And yet, now confronted with the reality of it all, they both knew it would be hard.

"Okay" She said with a nod, "I should get dressed"

"And I should head back to my room and clean-up" He said, standing to his feet, and she followed his lead. He smiled at her though, turning back to stand in front of her. This was all they'd hoped for, and yet Jon knew it would be difficult, they had much to figure out, a lot of acting to do, and a difficult path forward … and yet it would all be worth it, they both knew, it would all be worth it.

"I love you Sansa, and I'll see you at breakfast" He said with a smile, before leaning down to place a kiss first on her forehead, then on each cheek, before finally on her lips, lingering for just a moment before breaking free.

"I love you too, see you at breakfast" She replied, mimicking his words with a smile as he moved out of the room, and closed the door behind him. This would be hard, and yet it would be worth it, they had both known it would be a tough journey, and yet they had both known; it would be worth it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo thoughts? love, hate, mild dislike, apathy? lemme know!
> 
> I had to shift in writing style a little here but I feel it works better. 
> 
> speak soon


	3. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3, yeas. hope you enjoy. 
> 
> also if you love jonsa check out my one shot 'be mine'
> 
> lemme know your thoughts
> 
> songrecs: shameless - camila cabello

They had done it; they had actually done it … she still couldn't quite believe it. They had achieved the utterly impossible goal, had managed something even the most mysterious of warlocks had told them was not possible, had laughed at them for even trying, had refused their money and called it idiocy. It had taken sacrifice, worrying, sleepless nights, and yet it had all been worth it. They were here, they had done it, they had achieved what they had been so desperate for.  
A chance to change the past.

Because this wasn't just about running from the pain of the future, the scattering of the pack and the hardships that had come to them, but this was about ensuring that future, the future of pain and suffering, never came to be. They had known if they went back it would be hard, as two children trying to influence things, but it had been worth a shot, to change the terrible future they had already lived. That was why they had come back, to forge a better future going forward.

And they already had a way to do that, the knowledge the future had given them would be invaluable here. Sure, they might not be able to fix everything, but Sansa was sure there were things they could fix, things they could prevent, and they could change the future. One little ripple could change the entire path they were currently set to follow, she was sure of it, and that was enough to quell her anxieties (for the moment), and have her smiling as she got ready for the day.

She hurried, washing, and dressing, and putting on a gown of hers, one in grey that was stuffed at the back of her wardrobe. She grimaced at that, remembering how foolish she had been as a child, so desperate to swear off the North, to turn her back on her heritage and ancestry. But not this time, this time she would remember where she came from, she would remember what she was; she was a Stark, of the North, and she vowed to never forget such a thing. She would not be the idiot girl she had been, desperate to acknowledge her Tully side first, and desperate to go South. She knew one thing would change at least; she was not stepping a foot below the neck in this reality. She was of the North, this was where she belonged, she knew that now, and would carry it with her always.

Pulling on the dress, she left her hair in the maiden style of the North, uncaring if her Mother disapproved. Oh, her Mother, as much as she missed her, she knew she could never look upon Catelyn Stark with the rosy eyed tint she once had. Her relationship with Jon changed that. Of course, she still loved her Mother, always would, but she wasn’t so blind to her flaws, the way she had treated Jon was in hindsight shocking, and Sansa would not allow that to happen again.  
With a rueful sigh, she slipped on some shoes, and made her way to the door. First she stopped to grab a cloak from the peg on her wall, but as she looked across at it, she smiled to herself as she saw what Jon had left; likely without even realising it, a habit he had carried with him.

He had left behind his cloak, the ruffled grey number darker than her own. She had worn his cloak more than her own when they had been older, and she grinned to herself before picking it up and swinging it around her shoulders. She knew it was doing the opposite of what he had told her; acting strangely, and yet she couldn't help herself. This way, even if she couldn't act like she wished with Jon, at least she had a part of him with her. It smelled like him, like rosewood and the minty soap he used, and she rubbed her cheek against the fur as she tied it around her neck. It was too big for her, and yet she didn't care, it was like carrying around a part of him with her, and she was sure it would make things easier.

So, with a small sigh she slipped out of her room, Lady at her heels, and made her way to the dining room, a small smile on her face. They were here, they had done it. For now she was ignoring the fact things would get much, much harder from here, and instead she was going to allow herself just one, just one day to bask in the fact they had been successful, one day to see her family back together, whole, everyone alive. Just one day was all she needed.  
Just one day.

* * *

As soon as he left her room Jon was smiling to himself. They had done it! They had actually done it! He was grinning from ear to ear as he ambled back to his room, Ghost appearing from a nearby corridor and trotting along to his side. It was weird seeing his companion so small again, and yet Jon was sure he would get used to it. After all, it was hardly the strangest thing he'd need to get used to; it was just one of many new adjustments he'd need to make.  
Thankfully, they hadn't come into this blind. He and Sansa had discussed extensively what would happen if they achieved the impossible. They had made endless plans, had talked about how to act, how to behave, and how to keep their little secret just that, a secret. They both felt prepared.

But in truth, neither could quite believe what had happened.

It was one thing talking about it, making endless plans and extensively mapping out how they could most effectively make change, but it was another to be confronted with it, to wake up in the body of the boy he'd grown out of, to be back at just 16 years old, it was something else. Honestly, part of him wondered if this were all a dream, and he'd wake up soon, in his bed, a man once again, Sansa sleeping soundly on his chest, back to the normal.

But no, this was it, they were here, they had done it, they had achieved the impossible! The sacrifices didn't matter, not to him and he knew they didn't matter to her. They had done it, that was all that mattered, and that thought stayed with him as he stepped back into his room and went about straightening himself out.

Sure, it would be hard, he remembered this time with a grimace and not-so happy memories. His room was the first sign of it; tucked away by the armoury, away from his siblings thanks to Lady Catelyn's tender parenting styles. He knew he was back in for a life of being shunned, confronted, and treated like dirt on a shoe thanks to Sansa's Mother, and yet he also knew it wouldn't be for long. They had a plan to counter that as well, and even if that didn't work … well, he would deal with it, it was well worth it for what they had the opportunity to do, what they were going to do.

They had discussed that more than anything; was it worth it? Over and over that had been a point of discussion, and each had agreed; yes, it would be worth it. It meant change, it meant real change, giving up the lives they had built and come to love, but such things were a necessary sacrifice, a sacrifice to make things better, not just for themselves or their family, but for the world.  
A necessary sacrifice, they had acknowledged and accepted that as part of this journey.

He nodded to himself as he straightened up, put some shoes on (he had been in a hurry to check on Sansa, he had shoved on breeches, a tunic and his cloak and nothing else), and straightened out his clothes. He frowned at his reflection, at the stubble that now replaced a beard, at the strands of hair that were shorter and now curlier, at his height and lack of build. Still, that was nothing, he would become the man he was once more, he knew that, it would just take work, work he would happily undertake for everything else they had gained.

Once ready he tugged on his weapons belt (he knew it was strange, carrying around weapons in his own home, and yet a habit he couldn't and wouldn't break), and then reached for his cloak. However, as he looked for it, he realised with a small chuckle; he had left it in Sansa's room, of course he had. In their future, it had been a habit of his, to leave behind his cloak for her since she much preferred wearing his cloak to her own. Plus, Jon never felt the cold like others … a fact he had once simply accepted, but now had an answer for, and so it had been of non-consequence for her to always wear his cloak, and evidently those habits would be hard to break.

With a smile to himself, he simply made his way out of the door then, Ghost at his heels, on his way to the dining room. It was breakfast time … a family breakfast, he looked forward to seeing everyone; his Uncle alive and well, Robb young and living as well, Bran, no longer burdened by the spirits and responsibilities of the gods, Arya, a young girl once more, not the girl without a smile and only a crushed spirit, and Rickon, baby Rickon, no longer a corpse on the battlefield, but alive with life ahead of him. He couldn't wait to see them, and so many others; even Theon, whole and well again, and the members of the Stark household, back where they belonged, instead of gracing shallow graves, their spirits gone from the world. They were all here now, where they belonged.

He realised with a grimace that he would be seeing people he wasn't so keen on, but he simply surged forward, he had anticipated this, prepared for this, and so with a nod to himself he made his way down the corridors, he had much to think on.  
But today he would allow himself a little break; after months of planning, of sleepless nights and hard work, surely today he could have a respite? Reunite with his family, forget all the work they had to do, and simply revel in their success? Yes, he was sure that would be okay, just one day, one small day to simply be happy before the planning started anew. Just one day was all he needed.  
Just one day.

* * *

She caught his eye as she entered the dining room from the southernmost door, and she felt a pool of heat quicken beneath her pale cheeks, and she smiled at him, the secret smile she reserved for only him. He too smiled at her (her smile, as she liked to think of it) as he entered from the northern door, and she tried to push away the simple thought…

It was going to be extremely hard to act normal around Jon.

In this reality, he was her half-brother, she had viewed him with contempt and distaste, that was what it had been between them, in truth Sansa was sure their lack of sibling closeness was what had allowed them to fall in love as adults, they had never viewed one another as siblings and so the love that had blossomed between them had been a different kind of love. Still, how idiotic she had been, to shun him in the way she had, and yet she had, and everyone would expect it to be as such now, it would seem odd if she started acting completely different around him, and yet Sansa knew it would be impossible to treat him as she would be expected to. They had planned she would simply be friendly, as he would be to her, that wouldn't cause too much suspicion, and yet she knew it would be hard, because yes in this reality she didn't care too much for him … but she wasn't that child anymore, and her view had much changed.

She loved Jon, more than she had thought it would be possible to ever love anyone. He was her husband, her soulmate, best friend, love of her life, and so many more things she couldn't begin to list. He was her everything, had become her everything, and to turn her back on that? To pretend that wasn't true…she knew that wouldn't be possible. She knew, that yes, she could put on a face in public … but she would need to find a way to be with him in private, to ensure she didn’t kiss him by mistake in public or something.

And so, she made that choice, she would grab him after breakfast to talk to him about it. It wasn't any shame to her that she wasn't strong enough to shun Jon completely, she wasn't ashamed that she needed him, and never would be. When Sansa had first returned to Winterfell, she had been like that, ashamed and embarrassed to except help or rely on someone, but Jon had taught her that relying on one another strengthened them, rather than weakened them. And so, she would pull him to talk soon, it would just mean an adjustment to her plans she was sure, but nothing too serious. And so, she nodded herself, before weaving her way through the tables, to the head table at the top, where the rest of the family were already seated.

It was a struggle not to leap at them one by one. She saw them all sat down, alive, healthy, happy, and she felt tears well at her eyes. She forced them down however, and glanced at Jon for support, but he seemed to be struggling too, and so she turned back, and simply gave in; hugs weren't suspicious after all.

First, she went to Rickon, to bundle her into his arms and kiss the top of his head, to which he erupted in giggles. Next was Arya, whom she pulled into a hug, her younger sister squirmed and looked surprised, but her smile showed how delighted she was at such a simple gesture from her sister. Bran was next, and he too grinned as Sansa kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. Robb merely looked bemused as she bundled him into a hug, and her Father smiled in surprise and let out an 'Oof' sound as she pulled him into a tight hug, before stroking her hair down her back. Finally, she went to her Mother, whom she too pulled into a hug, though her Mother looked confused she was smiling. Sure, as much as she had in truth come to resent her Mother for her treatment of Jon, she was still her Mother, she still loved her.

Once done she sat herself down with a grin – Jon was already sat down, having forgone the hugs, and instead was simply looking around taking everyone in, his face betraying very little – something he'd always been good at. He was smiling though at her, in exasperation likely since she'd confused everyone around the table, but it was a fond smile and she shot him a little grin back.

"Sansa dear, are you alright?" Her Mother asked gently, and Sansa merely nodded, sure, she hadn't acted as she should have, and yet she had promised herself one day, in her mind that included a proper reunion with her family … even if it created some confusion. Even Jon didn't seem worried, instead he was smiling fondly, but had happily broke into conversation with Robb – his way of reuniting. They couldn't begrudge each other this luxury, not after the months they had been through to get here.  
After all this was one of the main reasons, they'd risked everything to come back, to see their family back together again and to be part of it. This here was what they had been fighting for, searching for.  
And god was it worth it.

"I'm quite alright Mother" She said, her voice gentle, "I just had a bad dream, and was glad to see everyone" Nods followed her words, and the confusion dissipated, everyone excepting her excuse. There, that was an easy explanation, and she couldn't help but send a wink Jon's way at her ease of explaining her strange actions. He muffled laughter at her, and she suppressed giggles too. Sure, they were acting a little crazy, but their joy was obvious; they could barely contain it, and who would blame them if they knew? If only her family knew what they had been through, though Sansa was glad they didn’t, that they didn’t have to know what had become of their family or the future they had come from.

Tucking into her breakfast Sansa was smiling to herself but frowned as her Mother spoke up.

"Wait … Sansa, is that Jon's cloak?" A coldness had taken over her Mother's tone, and Sansa felt herself flinch in annoyance. She saw that same response reflected in Robb, and even in part by Arya. Ahh, so she wasn't alone in her distaste of her Mother's resentment for Jon … that was something she hadn't known before, and was valuable information knowing it now. How had she missed that before? She near rolled her eyes at herself then - of course, she had been a silly, self-absorbed little girl. But she was no more, hence her picking up on things she once would have missed, useful things that would be important going forward.

"Yes Mother" She said simply, offering no further explanation, her annoyance having clouded her judgement, in this she wanted to be defiant, even if logically she shouldn’t be acting that way.

"Sansa" Jon spoke next however and gave her a look – that she needed to explain, that she shouldn't be mad on his behalf, that he didn't want this. He even held his hand out for the cloak, to indicate that they needed to act normal, and handing over the cloak and making up some excuse would be normal, and yet she shook her head. No.

After all, they had planned to change this aspect, for Sansa to appear more friendly towards Jon, now seemed like the perfect time to begin. Well at least Sansa thought so.

"Quiet bastard" Her Mother's tone was harsh, and she heard her Father admonish her, and yet that didn't stop Lady Catelyn, it hadn't in the past and would not now. "Sansa take it off!" Her Mother ordered, and yet Sansa barely heard those words, instead she glared across at her Mother, to which her Mother's expression turned from rage to shock, and she even leaned back in the chair, in surprise - Sansa had never looked at her Mother in such a way before.

"No" Sansa said, her tone as cold as her Mother's if not worse. The Great Hall had become silent then, everyone listening to this … Sansa was always the perfect Lady after all, no one expected her to talk back (particularly not when it came to the boy she called 'half-brother'), and it was evident this was the first time this had happened. Sansa knew this of course, knew how she should be acting, how she was expected to act. They had planned for this kind of scenario, and yet in her anger Sansa couldn't accept this, she couldn't act like this was okay. No, evidently the plans went out the window when actual emotions got involved.

"Leave him alone Mother" Sansa said coldly, before snuggling the cloak further round her shoulders, "Jon is a member of this family, a Stark in all but name … " She wanted to continue, and yet she was cut off as Jon came up behind her and practically yanked her out of her seat, yanked her to her feet, and pulled her up. He looked worried as she turned her gaze to him, yet not angry, in a way he even looked touched, and yet she could see in his eyes, he mostly looked fearful, and she felt worry claw at her own heart at his expression.

She had let her emotions get the best of her, had allowed them to run over, and she was acting completely out of character. This was the exact kind of situation they'd wished to avoid, the kind of situation that didn't work out well for anyone. She'd let her emotions run away from her so completely, she'd cast the gaze of suspicion across them both. She even missed the look her Father gave them, as he noticed Jon's hand linger on her arm, and the look of pure adoration and trust in Sansa's eyes as she looked up at Jon. She missed such a look, and so jumped as her Father spoke, interrupting everything with his authoritarian words.

"Stop this now" He said, his voice was quiet, calm even and yet it was clear he was angry. "Jon, Sansa, my solar now" He said simply, in a tone that was not to be questioned before he stormed out of the dining room, not waiting, evidently expecting Sansa and Jon to follow.

This was bad, Sansa knew that, this was bad. They could not be suspicious, in doing so that would mean they would be questioned, Jon could be in trouble (since her Mother would evidently cast the blame on him), and the consequences could be anything.  
Sansa knew she had messed up; she knew that as she looked up at Jon and her own look of worry was reflected back in him. Still she nodded, as he did, the two silently communicating with one another as they often did ... or had. It was something they had often done in the future, communicating with just a look, it was useful when they were in front of their subjects, or at a war council, to be able to speak without words, and they were still able to do so now. And so, they both turned away from the table and hurried to follow their Father, leaving behind a stunned dining room in their wake.

Their gaze was the words they spoke as they quickly caught up with their Father. This was bad, this was something they had actively wished to avoid, and yet planning didn't detail the actual situation, and how Sansa who would have once stood by, could not stand and watch her Mother speak to the man she loved in such a fashion. They hadn't been truly prepared, they hadn't been prepared for emotions, for anger, resentment and fury to factor in it. They had messed up, they hadn't thought their plans fully through, and in doing so they'd bought attention to themselves … well Sansa had, but Jon walked with her, and would always stand beside her, she knew that.  
“I love you” She mumbled, quiet enough that her Father did not hear as they followed after him.

“I love you too” He said back, and his tone was kind, he wasn’t mad at her she could see that, and she smiled at him.

Soon they reached the solar, and the door was left open, and yet they had a moment as their Father moved inside. They had a moment, and Sansa turned to Jon, as he grabbed her by the arms and looked down at her. They had a moment, and he spoke quickly, "Just go with whatever I say" He said simply and she nodded before he pulled her inside, careful to let go of her as they crossed the threshold to Eddard Stark's solar, into the first test of their ability to make a change and a difference, since they had returned to this past.

She trusted Jon, trusted him to ensure they were safe, to make this cloud of suspicion go away before any real consequences would be wrought. She trusted him completely, and so she followed him inside, ready to follow his lead. She would always follow his lead no matter what.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? 
> 
> I know theres not a ton of plot progression in this chapter but we are setting the stage *dramatically fans cloak* no? o-k.  
> but fo real, needed to set things up to move ahead, which we will. 
> 
> lemme know what you thought and I sincerely hope you are enjoying this fic
> 
> speak soon


	4. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not forgotten about this fic, but hotdamn it is hard to put together. still loving it tho.
> 
> I hope you love it too and pls let me know if you do! I also have another jonsa WIP in the works called 'eyes to the east' if you wanna check that out!
> 
> songrecs: just be - ashley jana

Sansa knew they were in trouble, _big_ trouble.

How were they supposed to explain their actions? How were they supposed to convince Eddard Stark, a man of honour and integrity, a man who had always seen through her lies in seconds, how could they possibly convince him? Sansa trusted Jon trusted him to ensure their safety, to keep her safe and take care of her. She trusted him to ensure they weren’t sent to the Citadel diagnosed with addled minds. Still, she may trust him with her life and yet she couldn’t see how he would get them out of this one. Sure, her husband was intelligent, but how was he going to talk them out of this?

After all what could they say? They hadn’t prepared for this! Which in hindsight had been stupid. They had assumed they would be able to fool their family, that they’d be able to hide what had happened to them and slip back into things, evidently, they had been wrong. They had not prepared for this; it had never even crossed their minds that this would be an issue. They had been so confident, too confident it seemed as they moved into her fathers solar.

Her stomach was churning, and she clasped her hands in front of her to stop them shaking. She felt a little sick as she followed Jon into the room, he didn’t’ shake, of course he didn’t, he was brave in the face of anything, always had been and would always be able to keep that stoic expression even when in deep trouble as they were now. He sat down then, and she followed, her father sat opposite them and silence fell.

It was odd to be in the solar again, and yet it was not as it had been. They were just visitors now, visitors in her fathers solar. Back in their world it had been Jon’s, as King it had been his right, though she had often occupied it as well. It was a power dynamic shift she would need to get used to, that they no longer held the power. On her way to the dining hall earlier she’d walked past one of the servants and it been odd to see they no longer answered to her as they once had, just as the soldiers would no longer answer to Jon. They had gone from ruling to being children again, it was strange and something they’d need to get used to.

In truth Sansa was realising they had not prepared well enough for this, for coming back to this time. Yes, they’d sketched out the basics, had come up with plans, had discussed ways forward, but it hadn’t been enough. As well they had been too sure of themselves, too sure they’d be fine, they hadn’t really thought about how things would change, how they’d feel.

Sansa hadn't considered how it would be to be treated like a child again, to no longer be a voice of power and authority in Winterfell. She hadn't considered how angry she would get at her mother in her treatment of Jon … hence their current position. She hadn’t thought about any of that really, and as she chewed on her lip, she realised they clearly should have. They perhaps should have waited, planned more, but they had been so eager … so sure.

A nudge to her knee made her realise she was drifting away with her thoughts as she sometimes did (and Jon often broke her out of with a wry smile), and she quickly snapped herself back to the present. She could lament on their lack of preparation later, for now she needed to focus.

“Sansa, Jon” Her father spoke, and his voice was deep, commanding, kind, Jon had inherited some of that, the commanding tone that was still gentle enough to be respected but not feared. It made people feel at ease and Jon had certainly inherited that too, it seemed to be a male Stark trait, the ability to put people at ease with nothing more than a pat to the shoulder or a soft word. Sansa knew it was only men who had inherited that, she certainly didn’t have that easy comfort giving skill, not anymore at least, and Arya had never had it. But there was an edge to her fathers tone this time, and she knew it was because of what had happened in the great hall.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back in the hall?” She heard that tone to his voice, that edge, the one of concern but also the firmness that told her they needed to come up with an answer and soon, and again she thought to herself, how the hell were they supposed to get out of this? She resisted the urge to shoot Jon a panicked glance, that would only bring more suspicion, she kept her gaze forward as her father continued.

“I’m pleased to see you getting along better, and Sansa it warms me to see you being nicer to your brother but Sansa?” He looked at her then and though Sansa had once been a Queen, in front of her fathers hard gaze she felt like a little girl again, she felt like her mind matched her body for a moment, “Defying your mother like that? Speaking like you did?” As he looked away from her to Jon, she gulped down some nerves, “And Jon, I’ve never seen you act so … close with your sister”

“And so, I’d like to know where these changes have come from” He said his voice harder now, and Sansa again resisted the urge to look at Jon, and instead opened her mouth to speak. It was only when she felt a hand squeeze her knee did she close her mouth, she knew Jon was telling her to be quiet, and rather than argue back as she normally would she just gave a small nod and kept quiet. He had said he would handle it, and she believed he would, sure she tended to be the better liar but not to her father, never her father, it seemed Jon would.

He lifted his hand from her knee and brushed the outside of her thigh in the process and she felt herself squirm a little. It was difficult, being in the body of a child with the thoughts and desires of a woman. Only days earlier (at least to her it was days) she and Jon had lain together as man and woman, had loved one another as adults and now they were children again, only just coming up to the age to be betrothed or married. It was odd, and she didn’t like being trapped as a teenager again, still … Jon was enduring it too, they would get through it together, just as they would this situation, she was sure.

And, that was the most important thing she had to remember … they had each other, would always have one another and in that moment Sansa thanked whatever gods might be listening for allowing them both to retain their memories, Sansa knew she would not have been able to endure this on her own, not without Jon, her Jon.

“U…father” She heard Jon’s little slip and she barely concealed a wince. She knew this was strange to him, to see her father in the chair that had once been his, to see Ice stood in the corner rather than at his belt as it had been after it had been reforged, to have to call Eddard Stark father rather than uncle, it was all strange for him, she knew that, at least her past had held little secrets, not like Jon’s, which had held so many.

Secrets they had learned and weathered together and ultimately the truth had been for the better. The truth of his birth had led way to their feelings for one another and had allowed them to marry, as cousins, it had been better to know the truth and so she knew it was harder now, she wanted to offer him some comfort but held back, she would comfort him later, once they were past this … if they got past it.

“There is no cause for alarm” Jon said, a tight smile on his features that was almost convincing, it didn’t convince her but then she knew him well, and Sansa had become very good at reading people, months in the Vale with Littlefinger did that to people. Still, it was convincing, as were his words as he ploughed on.

“Sansa and I have grown closer father, I’ve been privately tutoring her with her numbers, you know she was struggled” Sansa near rolled her eyes at that, and shot him a glare, though she did nod. It was a dull excuse but a believable one, in fact in their time he had tutored her on the numbers she hated so much whilst she had drilled him on courtly etiquette, they had both hated it and even shared their first kiss over one particularly frustrating lesson, but that was to think on another time, for now she noticed her father did not seem ready to let this go yet, as believable as the excuse was.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you Jon, I do” He paused then and Sansa took a deep breath, here it was, “It’s just that the way you two were looking at one another, it’s unusual” He said, and her worry increased, had her father caught on to the looks they shared, the familiarity between them. Stupid, they had planned for this, had said they would ignore one another more and distance themselves, but the ease between them could not be erased, they had to be more careful, here they were siblings, not man and wife, they had to watch themselves more and be vigilant.

“It just seems and feels as though something has changed between the two of you” Her father spoke again. She didn't want to argue with him, and she hadn't wanted to argue with her mother, but she had just felt so swept up … it was much more difficult than she had anticipated to act like her 14 year old self; she had changed too much between then and her 20th nameday … more than she ever could have thought, it wasn't easy slipping back to how she had been, and in truth? She didn't want to. She had been a foolish child, so caught up in songs and stupidity she hadn’t seen the beauty of the North, hadn’t seen her place in Winterfell, she didn’t want to be that stupid girl again, but she may have to act like it.

"We're just closer father, as siblings" Jon said then, but she saw him wince and she almost did, for the way he felt about her, it was not as brother and sister, it never had been as brother and sister, even at this age, they had never been siblings, not acted like them. That was what had allowed them to grow close as they had, in a different way. They had never treated one another as siblings and so something else had been able to grow between them, in closeness something else had flourished.

“Yes father” Sansa agreed, nodded along with Jon, “It is like me and Robb” God she felt like she might throw up at that thought, and she knew Jon would feel the same way. They were not like her and Robb, Robb she loved as a brother, Jon she loved as a husband, but for now? She had to act like they were the same or risk her father prying further.

"It's just, as you are half siblings, you have to be careful not to seem too close" Her father said then, evidently choosing his words carefully, "The way you looked at one another, worryingly, it reminded me of how Lady Stark and I are look at one another"

Lady Stark … Sansa frowned at that, from their time she had been Lady Stark, Jon Lord Stark and then King and Queen. She was still a Lady now, but not really, she had no lands or holds. Again her eyes fell to her father’s chair, there was that shift in power dynamic again, here it was Ned Stark’s chair, not Jon’s, it was so odd, and yet something she would need to get used to, they weren’t in charge here … not yet, not for a while.

"And at your age, on the threshold of adulthood, it's difficult" Her father was speaking ineloquently, but Sansa understood his meaning, as did Jon, as he glanced at her with worry. She understood her Father sensed something was different between them, something he could not allow, under the pretext they were siblings, and Jon was a bastard … but of course that wasn't actually the case, not that they could point that out of course, as to her father neither of them knew the truth.

And so, they could hardly call him out on that, and instead Sansa mulled over how perceptive her father was, and how they could get around this… how could they convince their father they were the same as he remembered them? Siblings, frosty with one another, not cousins, now deeply in love and used to being in love, a love so close it shadowed all around it? When they had planned, this had been an afterthought, they had been sure they wouldn’t be spotted. Clearly, they should have spent more time on this, much more time, as they had been almost noticed so easily.

"Sansa, soon you'll be betrothed, we've had several enquiries about your hand" She snapped out of her thoughts then, her eyes going wide, and she felt the squeeze of Jon's hand on her knee, thankfully obscured by her father’s desk, not hurting her but uncomfortable, and she realised as she glanced at him, he wasn't trying to catch her attention, he was just not happy about the change in this topic, at the idea of Sansa being anyone's but his.

But then Sansa knew; she would always be his and he would always be hers, _always._

"Harrion Karstark, Arthur Glenmore, Cley Cerywn, all options in the North, and then South, many eligible heir’s to Lordships and Keeps, and then Prince Joffrey, you know how Robert wishes to unite our houses" Sansa flinched at the last, her nose wrinkling, though thankfully her father hadn't noticed, as he continued on. "Any closeness with your siblings that isn't simply platonic … it's not right, and it's dangerous. I’m not suggesting anything, just pointing out why one should be careful”

Sansa knew he was suggesting something, indicating he had seen a closeness between them, perhaps suspected more but for now was simply warning them, she wondered why he hadn’t responded with disgust, as most would if faced with incestuous children … but then he knew Jon’s truth, he knew they weren’t siblings, perhaps that was why he was warning rather than scolding them.

She thought then on his words of a betrothal and she felt a little sick. She would never allow herself to be betrothed, perhaps in this time she had not been married yet but in her mind, she would always be married to Jon, her love, her soulmate, her husband. She loved him, as he loved her and she would never allow another man into her heart or bed, never.

“Father” Jon spoke again for which Sansa was glad, she didn’t want to open her mouth as she felt she’d end up just end up loudly protesting the idea of any betrothal. They had changes to make first before the subject of Prince Joffrey came up again, plans to make before the King came and before her father suggested any other marriage proposals. Those things they had planned for, she would never marry anyone else. In her mind she was already a woman wed, and her husband was sat next to her, holding onto her knee, evidently keeping his own frustrations and feelings at bay… at least for the moment.

This they'd spoken about, about how in this world Sansa had been bugging her parents for weeks about going South, had sworn off the Old Gods for the Seven, had been desperate to meet the Prince and be Queen one day. They had laughed at the latter, how desperate she had been to become Queen … and in their world she had been, just not in the way either could have predicted. They had been sombre as they had discussed the situation in the South, of where she’d be expected to go, but if there plans worked would never set foot…not yet at least.

"I will say no more" Eddard spoke, stopping Jon in his tracks, "But I don't expect to see the two of you ... interacting in this way again, now Sansa off to your lessons, Jon, you too" And with that he dismissed them without another word, clearly he had more to think over, as did they; they had a lot of thinking to do, a lot indeed.

For a moment Sansa wanted to speak, to deny it again, to make an excuse but she knew that would just be more suspicious. They had held off their father … at least for the moment, and so she stood to her feet, Jon followed and they left the solar, Sansa glanced back at her as their father turned away from them, to look at the portrait on the wall, a portrait Sansa couldn’t remember, clearly it had been destroyed in their world before she could see it.

It was a portrait of the Stark family, but not her siblings, it was a portrait of her father’s.

His father Rickard stood in the middle, hand on the shoulder of who had to be Brandon, Benjen hanging onto his brothers’ hand. Then stood Lyanna, smiling brightly next to Eddard, who was grinning at his little sister. These were the Starks that had come before her, her father, grandfather and then Jon’s mother, all together. She only got one last glance before the door swung shut behind them and Jon took her hand, pulling her down the corridor to his room, quickly so they would not been seen, his cloak billowing down her back as she followed him.

They had a lot to discuss.

* * *

Once they reached his room, Jon quickly shut the door behind them, bolted it, and pushed a chair against it for good measure. He hurried around to pull a curtain across the lone window, checked his bathroom for anyone before turning back to Sansa, his Sansa, his wife.

As she was his, she would always be his. He'd barely kept it together in his uncle's solar when he had spoken of offer's to Sansa's hand, and the possibility of her betrothal. Only years of experience of keeping calm and a cool facade allowed him to keep his emotions in check when that subject had come up. It had been difficult, and he knew he had squeezed her knee a bit too tightly, but it was that or lash out and reveal their true position, and his feelings for whom he was supposed to view as his sister.

But she wasn't his sister, never had been really, as they had never acted as such. When she had found him at the Wall, and then back in Winterfell … the sibling bond had never been there, and something else had been allowed to grow, to flourish, something deeper than that of siblings, something better, and from there it had spiralled.

He could still remember the first time she had fallen into his arms, it had been an unremarkable day, like any other, and yet when she had come to his room that night, the Lord's chambers (as she insisted he should have), he had been prepared for their usual routine, the usual back and forth chat, and then settling into bed, side by side (never mind the whispers), to simply hold hands as they drifted to sleep - for neither could sleep without nightmares without one another close, it was easier, comfortable, but that night had differed in that.

* * *

**Flashback**  
  
_"I love you Jon" Her voice was soft, but with the edge that had crept in ever since they had been reunited, an edge that spoke of her hardship. Part of him wished he could take it away, the other understood it, and simply promised himself he'd never let her voice grow any colder. Another part of him was proud of her, proud she had endured what she had and come out stronger, but still he would not let her voice darken anymore._

_"As I love you" And then he had leaned forward to kiss her forehead, as he always did, but in the dark, his lips instead had brushed her nose, she giggled in response, and he too laughed, before realising how close they were, how her hand had come to rest in his hair, tangle in his curls, how his hand was on her cheek, his thumb smoothing back and forth over her delicate skin._

_"Jon…" But before she could say another word, he had leaned down, to brush his lips against hers, like the lightest flutter of a butterflies wing, before pulling back, unsure, worried, uncertain … until she had pushed forward, her lips harder against his, soft, but crushing against his, and from there everything had changed._

_Afterward, when they had been lying in a tangle of sheets, her cheeks flushed red, the bloodstains on the sheets ignored, his chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat over their both their bodies, she had spoken, grinning from ear to ear in a way of such abandon he hadn't seen in a while, "I wondered when you'd finally kiss me"_

_He laughed in response, and rolled back on top of her, and pulled her lips to his once again._

_“I love you” She said as they lay down to rest after the second time and he kissed her again, this time on the lips._

_“I love you too” He said, and they fell asleep in one another’s arms, that night and every night after._

* * *

**Present**

His mind focused back on the present then and he rushed forward, to Sansa, his Sansa and pulled her into his embrace. She willingly went, into his arms, wrapping her own around him, clutching him close and tight, so tight but he didn’t complain, not once as he crushed her too him, she didn’t complain either.

It had been a crazy morning, a lot on both of them and they needed this, they needed this moment, a moment to just be with one another, to allow the tension to fade, the stress to go away. She needed to hold him, to know he was here with her, and he needed to hold her, to know she was his, always.

This was hard for both of them, he knew that, and yet he felt in terms of losing their loved one, Jon was in more danger. His uncle still thought he was on the path to take the black (though Jon knew that was no longer an option; how could he help make change if he was stuck at the wall?), and as a bastard he was in no danger of being married off. But Sansa? That was an imminent danger, one they had made some plans to stop, and yet it still made him shake with fear, the idea someone else would try to take her from him, try to make her theirs… she was his! His wife, his love, his soulmate, and always would be. The lack of wedding ring on her hand in this time annoyed him but it didn’t change that they were man and wife.

He knew he was being possessive, in a way he had only been flashes of before, but his uncle’s words had shaken him; the idea that Sansa one day wouldn't be his. She had worn the ring to match his, had said the words he had in the Godswood, they had pledged themselves to one another forever, _forever._

_‘From this day, until my last days’_

They had said it, and they would honour it.

"You are mine, and I am yours" He said into her fire-red hair, the hair he loved so much, the hair that had the wildlings and eventually the Northmen call her _'kissed by fire'_. “Mine and yours” He repeated. She didn’t reply with words, but a nod into his chest, before bringing her lips to his, a kiss that they both desperately needed, and melted into. A sigh of relief left his lips and a pleased sigh left hers as they sank into the kiss, as they let the pleasure of an embrace take them for a few moments.

He broke free after a few moments, but only to rest his forehead against hers, as she did his, he tipped his down and she leaned up, as they did not move, his hands to her waist, hers on his chest. He could stay like this forever, and he would embrace her forever, he would.

"I am yours and you are mine" She said simply and the simple unpanicked tone to her voice calmed him, calmed him more than anything, though he did not let her go, he just nodded against her, where they stayed for too long really, and yet neither could pull away, neither wanted to pull away, not ever.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? 
> 
> we are establishing the relationship here and I will reiterate - this story is firmly jonsa, and will be throughout. I haven't decided on other pairings let, tho lets be honest gendry/arya will likely happen as I loveeee them. but yes jonsa will be the focus. 
> 
> lemme know what you think and tell me, what other pairings (with free characters) would you like to see? 
> 
> speak soon


	5. Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still loving the response to this story. 
> 
> shameless plug - if you like this jonsa wip, check out 'eyes to the east' my other one ^^
> 
> pls lemme know your thoughts on this, I always appreciate feedback
> 
> songrecs: house stark theme'

As much as Sansa wished to remain in Jon's arm for _a lot_ longer, she knew that soon their absences from their lessons would be noted, and they could not afford anymore suspicion upon them now. And so, reluctantly she pulled away from Jon and pulled a face that made him laugh as they both pulled back. She didn't want to leave him, but she knew they needed to go about their days, convince everyone that everything was normal and chiefly convince her father there was nothing to worry about.

And so, she stepped away from him. Jon gave her a small smile at her displeased expression before placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She let out a sigh as his lips made contact with her skin and smiled to herself. They both had their days to be getting on with now, as much as she wished they could just hide away together for a little while.

For a moment Sansa's mind drifted away as she thought over the meeting in her father's solar, just minutes earlier. They had both agreed when embarking on this plan, that if it succeeded, they wouldn't tell anyone in this time about the future, or where they had come from and how they'd done so. For a moment she doubted whether they had been right; should they have told her father what they knew? Tried to get him to help? In the future she and Jon were powerful, rulers of the North with influence and power, but now? Now they were just children. For a moment she felt so small, so insignificant…

They had come back to change things, but how could they possibly do that in their current positions?

"Sansa?" Jon's voice broke her out of her worrying and she smiled at him in an attempt to reassure him, but Jon knew her better than that, and he shot her look that meant she hadn't fooled him, not a bit. With a small sigh, she relayed her worries to him.

"Do you think we should have told my Father?" She asked, her voice dropping to a whisper as she stepped closer to Jon, to ensure if anyone walked past or appeared, they would not be overheard, "Enlisted his help perhaps?"

Jon raised an eyebrow in surprise at her line of thought, but his expression turned more neutral as he mulled it over before shaking his head. "Even in the rare event he would have believed us … it would complicate things greatly Sansa, set off events we're not ready for yet. Plus, I doubt he would have believed us, probably thought us insane, lackwit or ill, we couldn't risk that, you know that, we talked about this before"

"I know" Sansa said with a nod, after all they had discussed this at length back in their timeline, going back and forth over whether they should tell anyone, "I just feel like it's going to be so hard Jon" She bit down on her lip then, to pause before continuing, "We're not King and Queen here"

With that Jon pulled her into another hug, which she wanted to resist; she was far too reliant on his comfort and that would be far too suspicious here. And yet she couldn't help but melt into his embrace, it had been a hard morning, and she knew things were not going to get any easier. And so, though she knew she needed to not seek her husbands quite as much she couldn't resist for the moment.

"No, but we can still make change, we made plans, don't doubt us, we can do this, we can save everyone, we can" Jon replied into her hair, and she nodded, he was right. She was just scared, she wasn't afraid to admit that, she felt it was right to be scared, they had so much to do and very little time to do so, but they had made plans, smart plans, and if they pulled them off then things would be better for the Stark family. "We can do this Sansa" Jon confirmed, and again she nodded before pulling away from him.

"Okay" Sansa said then, stepping back once more, her fears a little alleviated; they had big changes to make yes, but she was sure they could do it … _together_.

They may not be the King and Queen here, but they had their skills. Jon had become one of the best swordsmen in the known world, she had tutored under Littlefinger and as awful as Petyr Baelish had been and she had not mourned his death he had taught her a lot, same as Cersei, also dead in their timeline but had imparted some wisdom to Sansa. They were both smart, beyond their years and they knew what was to come. They may not have any power here, but they had their talents, that would have to be enough.

"Now come " Jon said with a small smile, "We'll just settle in today aye? And we'll worry about the future tomorrow" With that Sansa did feel reassured, they had to just take it one day at a time, and today was about reuniting with their family, today was about settling into this new reality and coming to terms with it all. That she could do, that she _wanted_ to do.

"Alright" Sansa said, a small smile appearing on her own features then, "I best be going then" She said, though she didn't move for a moment, instead she just adjusted Jon's cloak around her shoulders, she didn't care what her Mother said, she wasn't removing it. This would be her comfort throughout the day when Jon was not with her and she was not giving that up. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Jon said with a grin, leaning in quickly for a chaste kiss, but unwilling to risk anymore in case anyone was watching. Still, Sansa melted into it with a smile before pulling back and composing herself.

"I love you" Sansa said, aware her voice was a little quiet … for she was nervous, how could she not be? Littlefinger and Cersei had often taught her that fear was a weakness but she disagreed, fear could be utilised, and she planned to do just that, she would use her fear to spur her actions, to remind her of the important work they had to do, to remind her not to slip up.

"As I do you" Jon said in response, "Now it's time for us to go, I'll see you at lunch, and dinner, and then I'll come to your room tonight, alright?" At that she felt reassured and nodded, and with a deep breath, she found the strength to move past her beloved, and make her way out of her bedroom and through the corridors. If she remembered correctly she was due with Septa Mordane that morning, the lessons would be useless to her now, but she could make some positive changes during the lessons, and with that thought (and one last look at her room, from which Jon emerged, shot her a smile and then hurried in the opposite direction), she made her way forward, she could do this.

But as she hurried down the corridor, the cloak around her shoulders a great comfort to her, she failed to notice the shadowy figure stood in the small alcove by her room door … her father, who had heard _every_ word between the supposed siblings and who's look of horror did not fade as she hurried away. She did not see such a look, nor did she see him hurry back to his solar.

* * *

Jon wished he didn't have to go to his lessons. Once he had begged to go, his uncle had stood his ground against Lady Stark and had insisted Jon be allowed to attend Robb's lessons with him and he had been over the moon at the time. But now? Now he wished to have more free time. He already knew everything Maester Luwin would be teaching, hell he knew more secrets of the houses of the seven kingdoms than the Maester did now! He didn't need to sit through lectures on the names of the houses of Westeros, and their political alliances and stances now. He knew plenty on all of these subjects, mainly through first-hand experience now.

Still it would be good to spend some time with Robb and it was important to go about their usual routines to stop any suspicions. And so, once he reached the door to the classroom he only paused for a minute before slipping inside.

He entered the room and worked to keep a scowl off of his features. He had forgotten that Theon attended these lessons. He didn't dislike Theon for what he had done in the future, the man had more than made up for his wrong doings and had been honoured for his heroism in their future, but the Theon he was facing now? Ugh, he had been an insufferable little prick. And Jon was not likely to take his insults and barbs on the chin now, though looking through the eyes of a boy he was a man now, he would take no disrespect here.

"Ahh Jon" Maester Luwin smiled as Jon hurried inside, "Please have a seat" He said with a nod and Jon took a place to Robb's right, Theon sat on his cousins left. Jon shot the Maester a smile as he continued on, he had always liked the man. Their Maester in the future had been good, but he could never have compared to Luwin.

"Everything okay brother?" Robb said in a hushed tone as Luwin began to give an overview of political alliances in the North (something Jon knew almost too much about, damn he could teach this class). He flinched a little at Robb's words; _'brother'_ it saddened him to know they weren't brothers, never had been, though Jon did consider him one if not in blood, and he hoped if Robb ever learned the truth of his parentage he would feel the same way.

He remembered when he had found out himself, been so worried the remaining Stark's would turn their back on him. Of course, they hadn't, they had accepted him and treated him the same … except Sansa of course, though her change in attitude had led to something much different and the happy marriage they were in now.

"Fine" Jon said in response, he did smile as he looked at Robb, he had missed him greatly. He had wished in the past to go to his side when he had heard he had called the banners, but his other brothers had bought him back to the Wall. He knew if he had done as such, he likely would have died at the Twins too, and then who would have stopped the army of the dead? Still it was damn good to see him again, alive and well and a boy once more. "I'll talk to you about it later"

"Hmm" Luwin hummed, interrupting the boys whispered conversation with a raised eyebrows and a slightly disapproving expression, "Boys try to follow along, Jon, tell me the current head of House Glover, and the minor houses sworn to him, if you'd been listening you'd know" He seemed almost amused, and Jon near rolled his eyes. He had never massively enjoyed politics, but he knew it well, Sansa had seen to that.

"Current head is Lord Galbert Glover, minor houses sworn are houses Woods, Branch and Bole" Jon replied with a nod. Sansa had drilled this information into him night after night once he had been crowned as King in the North. He had become adept at looking at house loyalties and using them when necessary. Sure, he was better at fighting, Sansa was better at the deception and lies of politics, but he was decent too and that knowledge was all still in his head.

"Very good Jon" Maester Luwin said in slight surprise, and Jon saw Robb's look of surprise mirror the Maester's. Theon looked irritated and shot him a glare, to which Jon readily held his gaze for a change, to which Theon dropped his in surprise. Jon had meant what he'd thought, he wouldn't let Theon intimidate or harass him.

He did acknowledge he had to be careful here though, very careful, he couldn't give away too much about how he had changed, his knowledge or his skills. Still, he knew in the training yard he wouldn't be able to resist showing off, especially if he was faced against Theon in a sparring match. In the future he may have forgiven the Greyjoy boy, but he felt the young squid could use some sense knocked into him now, rather than waiting for the cut of a Bolton's knife to do so.

"Nice one Jon" Robb muttered under his breath, and Jon couldn't help but smile at his cousin, he really had missed him, he had missed him as a friend, a voice of reason, and as a brother, Jon still considered him one, and always would, regardless that he had not come from Eddard Stark's line.

"I missed you, you know" Jon couldn't help but say, as Robb turned to him with a smile and a roll of his eyes, though he did look pleased.

"You saw me yesterday you softie" He replied to which Jon couldn't help but laugh, setting Robb off too, which got them both a glare from Maester Luwin. At that they both settled down, though still smiling, and Jon couldn't help but feel a little bit happier, it did feel good to be back, despite the problems, and the worries (and the fact he knew Sansa would micromanage everything to death until he'd be forced to kiss her to stop her worrying), it was all worth it, that was all he had to keep telling himself when things got hard; it was all worth it.

* * *

Sansa was worrying of course, as she hurried down the corridors to the Septa's teaching room. She gave a hurried apology as she walked in and moved to sit not in her usual seat but next to Arya instead. Her relationship with her sister had been better in the future, closer, but it had gone through unnecessary strife before then which she hoped to avoid now. She would do better at understanding Arya now, at treating her kindly, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.

And so, for a moment she tried to put her worries out of her mind, to ignore them and focus on the now. One look at Arya did help, as she watched her little sister struggle with her stitches. She was reminded that this was what they had come back for, this was why they had come back: for family. She didn't want to miss being back with her loved ones by being constantly anxious and spending all of her time planning and fussing. She needed to enjoy being with them again.

Picking up her sewing supplies, Sansa ignored Jeyne trying to call her over, and instead quickly began to thread, the sooner she got it finished, the sooner it would be done. She remembered when sewing, dancing, playing the lute had all been so important to her, but now? Now? Now they were useful in other regards, but not those the Septa intended.

Sewing was useful for sewing leather onto armour or stitching a wound on the battlefield. The lute could be used to calm a dying man or bring comfort to those marching into battle. Dancing was good for distraction on a night of celebration or a gentle exercise for ladies trapped in the castle as men went off to fight. They had their uses, but she now saw little point in sewing house sigils and pretty flowers. Sure, she still found some enjoyment in sewing her own dresses and gowns, but this? This seemed pointless.

Her fingers were quick now, but clumsier than they had been, thanks to her younger body and hands. She was still fast, stitching the house sigil, the direwolf of the Stark's onto her plain background efficiently and with ease. The only real time in the future Sansa had tried to keep her sewing 'pretty' had been when stitching Jon's clothes or her own, and even then it had fallen by the wayside when more important things had made themselves known.

"Oh Arya" She heard the Septa say and Sansa stiffened slightly, "Awful work young child, why can't you get this right?" The Septa crowed and Sansa found herself rolling her eyes in response.

"She will Septa" Sansa replied, her tone making it evidently clear how annoyed she was at the woman's words, "Give her time" She said simply, she missed the look of shock on Arya's face, and the looks of surprise the other girls gave her.

"Lady Sansa, your own needlework today is rougher than usual, but still a sight better than your sisters! Please do not intercede when I am trying to teach" the Septa said, she too surprised but more annoyed at Sansa's uncharacteristic interruption.

"I will intercede if I think you're being unfair Septa" Sansa shot back, forgetting for a moment that she was meant to be a 14-year-old girl, not a Queen with a strong voice. She had promised herself she wouldn't try to be in charge, and yet she had also promised to be a better big sister, for the moment the latter took priority over the former, "Arya will get it in her own time and is vastly more skilled than all of us in many other pursuits" She said with a nod then and a glower towards the Septa.

"Sansa, what are you doing!" Jeyne said across the room, her face incredulous to what Sansa was saying, "No need to stick up for Arya horse face!"

Sansa felt her temper flare then, as well as a spike of guilt stabbing at her. She had used that nickname against her own little sister, and she felt awful for it in hindsight, why had she been so cruel? So desperate to fit in with the other girls and distance herself from her admittedly unruly sister? Well no more, that would change, starting now. She had promised herself she would do better, and do better she would as she rose to her feet, and sent a chilling glare towards Jeyne Poole.

"Don't you dare speak of my sister like that again Jeyne" Sansa said coldly, as she glanced down at Arya, who frankly still looked in shock at her sister's change of attitude, "How dare you presume to insult her, she is a member of the ruling house of the North, you are a stewards daughter" There was some of the Sansa most of them remembered, the snob obsessed with status, "If I hear you insulting her again I will see it as an insult to House Stark, and then my father will be forced to get involved" She said "Do you understand?"

At that Jeyne and the rest of the girls nodded, Septa Mordane seemed shocked and went to hurry out of the room, mumbling about finding Lady Catelyn, but Sansa sat herself back down and turned to her little sister who still looked surprised, and perhaps a little teary eyed now, which again made Sansa feel awful, she should have always stuck up for her like this, and she would now.

"If any of them speak to you in such a way again, come straight to me, okay?" Sansa said, her voice far more gentle as she spoke to Arya, and got a good look at her for the first time. Here was her innocent little sister, obsessed with sword fighting and acting like a little boy. Gone was the cold assassin with her long, long list. It was good to see her as a child, and both Sansa and Jon had promised to protect that childhood with everything they had.

"Thanks Sansa" Arya replied with a small smile, and Sansa nodded, reaching up to stroke her hand over her little sisters' hair before glancing at her needlework.

"Your stitching really is dreadful Arya" She said with a small smile, a little laugh leaving her lips which Arya caught onto. Once they stopped Sansa spoke again, "Why don't you try to stitch our sigil instead of some silly flowers?" She asked with an encouraging nod and smile, "Hmm? Our sigil is something to be proud of, put work into it, and really try and then you can be proud of stitching our great house sigil, okay?"

"Okay" Arya said in response; Sansa knew her little sister would never love stitching but as she grabbed new supplies and began to work, she seemed to be trying hard. Her hands were steady, her expression determined, and Sansa smiled as she went back to her own work.

This is why they'd come back, to help their family, to keep the Starks together and happy. Sansa felt good about helping Arya, she also felt a little better, and hoped she could foster a closeness between them, she certainly would try, and as Arya saw her watching and grinned at her, Sansa smiled back with happiness. Yes, she wanted to be close to Arya this time around. After all, they had come back for one main reason: family.

' _Family, duty, honour'_ Her mothers' words, and they were right, family came first, _always_. 

* * *

The day moved slowly from there on with little incident. Jon and Robb happily chatted away over lunch, and Sansa was happy to leave them be, shooting her beloved a smile before settling in next to Rickon and taking over his feeding, which her mother accepted gratefully. She didn't complain as Rickon splatted mashed potatoes over the table, staining her dress, only laughed, and then tickled him before encouraging him to eat his carrots. She was quick with her own lunch before moving onto lemon cakes, they were still her favourite and hard to come by in the future.

Lessons in the afternoon dragged on equally, but thankfully she sat was able to sit in between Bran and Arya as Maester Luwin talked them through the noble houses of the North and their importance. Sansa already well informed on the topic (obviously) was happy to help her siblings, and the smiles on their faces and the Maester's by the time they broke for dinner had her smiling too. A hard start to the day had been passed, and the rest of the day had been much better, not just for her, but for Jon too.

Jon had spent the afternoon sparring, and though it had been difficult to reel back his skills, and try to ignore instincts he had honed over years, he had found his physical body needed to catch up to allow him to pull off some of the moves he had learnt over the years. And so, bar the odd sparring session (in which yes he did beat both Theon and Robb with ease), Jon focused instead on the physical activities that would bring his strength and muscle back, weights, drills and push ups were his preferred activities as Master Rodrick oversaw sparring between Theon and Robb. He was determined to get his strength back; he would need it in the fights to come.

For both of them it had been an odd start to the day but had gotten better as they went through it. As dinner came they both sat apart again (though shot each other more than a few glances), Sansa sat with Arya and Bran, happily listening to their stories about their recent races against one another, and who was faster (both insisted they were, and Sansa couldn't help but laugh at their outraged faces as she refused to pick a side), Jon sat with Robb, soaking up all the lost time with his brother in all things but blood, the two happily chatting away about sparring techniques, which in truth Jon didn't need to learn about, but was just happy to soak up the time with Robb.

Neither of them noticed, through lunch or dinner that Lord Stark was noticeably quiet, and brushed off his wife's concerns, insisted he was thinking over economic reports from the North. Neither of them even thought to suspect something as he watched them shoot one another glances and smiles, and neither of them thought anything of walking out together, walking closer than usual (though Arya certainly noticed, and seemed happy as anything that her siblings were closer, and soaked up all the attention Jon gave her). Certainly, neither of them suspected they were being watched as Jon snuck into Sansa's room later that night to spend time with his wife.

* * *

Jon had walked through the corridors silently, leaving his weapons belt in his room, wearing minimal armour and light boots to mask his tread as he hurried over to Sansa's bedroom. His footsteps were quiet as he made his way to her bedroom, slipped inside, and shut the door behind him without making a sound. Ghost had followed him but happily settled beside a sleeping Lady as he walked inside. It was later than he'd intended, but he'd stayed up later chatting to Robb in his cousins' room, unable to tear himself away from being able to simply talk to his best friend again.

And so, he was later than intended, but smiled as he found Sansa still awake, sat on her bed in her nightgown, brushing her hair. She grinned at him as he slipped inside, and then walked around to sit next to her on the bed. Though they weren't sitting for long as Sansa pulled him down to lie down next to her instead.

He arranged them into a comfortable position, he on his back an arm beneath his head, his outer armour shed to leave him in breeches and a simply undershirt, Sansa on her side with her head on his chest, in just a nightgown, her long hair tickling his neck as she cuddled into him. "I missed you" He said simply, breaking the silence to which, she grinned into his skin and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I missed you too" She said simply, placing her chin on his chest so she could look at him with a smile, "But it was good to see everyone again, to spend time with them, I had forgotten over our months of work just how much I missed them!"

"Aye, me too" Jon responded, his smile matching hers now as he thought back on the day. It had started tense, and yet they were both happy as it came to an end. It had been a much-needed day with family, a day of being reunited and spending time with their loved ones. They may have plans and such they needed to focus on soon but one day with their family had been needed.

"Still, I did want to see you all day, it feels weird since back during our time we'd spend most of the day attached at the hip" Sansa said with a little laugh to which he nodded, it was true, it was a little joke around Winterfell that the King was rarely seen without the Queen by his side.

"It does" Jon said, "But I'm happy to be with you now, with you in my arms, where you belong" He said simply, and he saw the blush pool across her cheeks, her pale skin lighting up pink, which clashed delightfully with her hair, which he always loved. He loved making her blush, seeing the pink spread across her cheeks and nose, seeing the secret little embarrassed smile she did when he was able to elicit such a reaction from her, it always made him smile in a way that otherwise remained hidden.

He loved her smile, and her blush, and her hair, _'Kissed by fire'_ The freefolk called her, she was the one instance in which he preferred fire to ice.

"God, Jon, I can't believe we did it" Sansa said with a grin, turning back to lie on her side once more, to pull him close to her, body to body, not an inch between them, which Jon welcomed as he pressed his lips to her hair again, and held her close.

"Me either" He said simply, for it was true; it was nigh on unbelievable, and yet they'd done it, they'd managed it, against all odds and known truths in their world, they had done it, achieved the impossible, and here they were now.

...

"Did _what_?" As soon as he heard the foreign voice, he didn't even register who it was, instead he was up quickly, in front of Sansa who screamed in response to the stranger having entered her room. He was up, looking for a nearby weapon, anything he could use against the intruder, until he looked up at the figure in front of him, the candlelight casting a shadow over him as he looked down at them both, his expression one of both anger and confusion.

"Father" Sansa said, her eyes widening as she realised, he had managed to slip inside without either of them noticing, they'd been too focused on one another. Jon couldn't believe he'd let his guard down so easily, so foolish, so stupid, and now they'd been caught red handed, how on earth did they explain this?!

"I heard you this morning" Eddard Stark spoke, and he heard Sansa gasp, her hands go over her mouth as she turned her gaze to him, her expression frantic. Jon in contrast let out a deep sigh, and a shake of his head, damn.

Eddard Stark was here in front of them, he had heard them this morning and presumably their conversation now. He had heard them talk about a future he didn't know about, had heard them talk to each other in the way they did, had heard their declarations of love. Good god, he'd heard them call themselves King and Queen.

 _Fuck_.

They were fucked, well and truly fucked. Likely his uncle now thought they were insane, crazed, and Jon had no idea how they talked themselves out of this. They'd barely talked themselves out of trouble this morning! Eddard Stark was a man who could easily see lies in his children, and Jon turned to look at Sansa with an expression of worry, what did they do here? What was the move here? Jon, usually so able to work out situations and the best way to resolve them, now his face was alight with worry, with surprise, and it was clear he had no idea what to do. Sansa still had her hands clapped over her mouth and was looking at Jon desperately for an answer.

They were both at a loss.

"So tell me, tell me what you did, tell me what you mean by _'your time'_ , and tell me why you think you need to save us all" Lord Stark said, less angry but clearly confused, and Jon let out a deep sigh then. How on earth did they explain all of this?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> how are these craaaazy kids gunna get out of this one? ;-; I'd love your predictions, lemme know what ya think might happen!
> 
> speak soon


	6. Union

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnote: and we are out of pre-written chapters! ahhhh, I am already working on the next tho. 
> 
> I am firing through updates during the current quarantine and so fingers crossed I'll have a new chapter for you soon!
> 
> pls enjoy, lemme know if you did. 
> 
> songrecs: ashley - halsey

How did they explain this? How did one explain they had come from the future, spent almost a year searching for a way back, had somehow found it and retained their memories against all odds? How did they explain that in the future they ruled the North, side by side as man and wife, rather than the siblings everyone currently believed them to be? How did they explain that they knew everything, knew what had happened in the past and what was to come next? How the fuck did they explain all of that?

He had no idea.

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, words failed him. Jon was usually good at making plans, had been a natural strategist from the moment he had tried, but now, stood in Sansa's childhood bedroom, as she was frozen in horror behind him, facing down her father, his uncle and the man who knew something was wrong … he had no words to say, no excuse. He could think of nothing, and as he glanced at his wife, he could see she had nothing either.

"I…" He started but was interrupted by a voice in the hall.

"Ned?" He had never been so pleased to hear Lady Stark's voice, and almost collapsed with relief that perhaps they had been given a reprieve. He watched as his uncle debated what to do, his eyes flickering to the corridor and then back to him and Sansa, Jon was worried for a moment, that he'd continue pushing, only for Lady Catelyn to join the mix. He did not want Sansa's mother seeing them in this state, she already hated him, he was sure if she thought he'd been in her daughters' bed she might actually kill him.

His uncle seemed to realise that as well and let out a frustrated sigh before looking hard at them both, "My solar, tomorrow morning before breakfast, we'll eat there, you will explain everything to me" Jon nodded hastily then, anything to get rid of him so they could talk. "Jon go back to your rooms when we're gone" And at that he shot them both another hard look before turning away, to head off his wife.

Once he heard the footsteps down the hall, he ran forward and closed the door quietly, before bolting it from the inside, and stacking a chair against it for good measure. Only when he was satisfied that no one would get in now did he turn back to Sansa, who was now pacing in panic, fisting great handfuls of her fiery hair, breathing heavily, clearly distressed.

"Oh my god" She moaned, and he could nod in agreement, what did they do now? "Jon!" She looked horrified, and he knew his expression mirrored hers. He didn't pace though, only sat himself on her bed and leaned forwards, elbows on his knees, he didn't want to pace, he needed to be still for a minute, to think. "Why didn't you see him come in after you?" She said furiously then, turning her panic on him, to which he glared at her. Love his wife he did, but whenever she panicked, she often lashed out without meaning to and tried to assign blame.

For all the love they had for one another they could argue like nobody else. Of course, they always made up, and nothing ever lasted beyond a few hours, but hell, they could go at it when a situation demanded it.

"It is your bloody room!" He fired back and then he was on his feet too, pacing with her, stillness was not working, clearly, "How did you not realise?" He said and Sansa glared at him furiously, pacing and pacing.

At that Jon signed and moved forward to grab her hands, to stop her, it would do no good to fight, they needed to work together here, if they had any hope of surviving come morning they could not argue amongst themselves. He had no idea what would happen, what excuse they could give, he just knew they could not tell Eddard Stark the truth, he wouldn't believe it, not for one bit, he would think them mad, perhaps send him to the Quiet Isle and Sansa to the Septa's convinced their brains were addled. And so, they needed an excuse, a good one at that.

Jon wasn't stupid, his uncle had found them in bed together, had heard the words of love they exchanged, he was surprised he had left them alone in truth, though perhaps he knew if Lady Catelyn had seen them she might kill his nephew. But come morning Jon knew his uncle would need answers as to why they were cuddling like lovers when everyone thought they were siblings. He knew he was already at risk of being sent away, his uncle would do it if he thought he had a relationship with Sansa, he couldn't let that happen.

They had to come up with a reason for their actions, for their words, and it needed to be a good one, one that meant they weren't torn apart.

He just had no idea what that could be.

"What do we do Jon?" Sansa said as she clutched at his hands, argument forgotten as they both looked at one another in desperation. They had to come up with a plan, a good plan. Eddard Stark was expecting answers to what he had heard, and if they did not have answers for him Jon knew it would end badly. He would not be taken away from Sansa, and he could see that happening if they did not have a good excuse, and so a good excuse they needed.

Minutes passed and neither said anything. They only held onto one another, looked at one another wracking their brains, thinking, and planning, trying to think of any good excuse for their behaviour that his uncle would believe and accept. The seconds ticked on, strained, and he could see a tear making its way down Sansa's cheek, she was having the same worries as him it seemed. He lifted his hand to brush it away, and she grabbed his hand to hold against her cheek as another tear fell.

"You can't be sent away" She said in a whispered tone, her gaze meeting his again, eyes filled with unshed tears, "You can't" She shook her head and he pulled her closer, pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes sliding shut as hers did. They took a second, in holding one another in comfort, he took a second to take a deep breath as he held onto her, to Sansa, to his wife.

He loved her, he had before he had even realised it, and he remembered he had been the first to say it, in a romantic context, to say those three words that had ensured a life of happiness for him, as no matter what life threw at him, he loved her and she loved him.

* * *

**Flashback**

' _It has been a long day' He groaned and settled himself in front of the fire, in the Lords chambers that were his now, that he shared with Sansa, his wife._

_He had never thought he would marry her, but they had grown closer since the revelation of his birth, closer and closer until they could not hold back anymore. It made sense as well, they ruled the North well together, and they had both wanted to continue doing that. Sansa had the Stark name that legitimised their rule, and Jon was a beloved King already, and so the union made sense, the fact they had already made love, had already decided they wanted no one else … that had just been a bonus before the wedding._

' _I know' She said with a nod, settling down in the chair opposite, 'Honestly you'd think northern men would realise their armour was without leather, but apparently not She shook her head, 'Scolding blacksmiths three times my age feels strange" She laughed and he did with her._

' _Imagine me lecturing the men who taught me sword fighting' He said with a shake of his head and she giggled too. She looked so beautiful when she laughed, her face lighting up, the hardness that had settled in her gaze disappearing for a few moments as she looked innocent and sweet again. Of course, to Jon she was sweet, but the giggling made her all the sweeter._

' _I'm so tired' She said with a moan and with that he walked over to her chair and scooped her up, laughing at her delightful little squeal._

_They made love, as they did most nights, it felt as natural as breathing to them, and after, as Sansa rested her head on his chest, and he held her close did he feel himself drifting off that the words simply slipped from his lips, unbidden, unprompted, without thought or anxiety, they just fell._

' _I love you' He said with a smile, and almost rolled his eyes at her response._

' _I love you too' She said, and he realised she hadn't picked up on how he meant it now._

' _No' He looked down at her then, 'I said it before as family, now I say I love you, as my wife, I am in love with you Sansa' If he were a blusher no doubt he'd be red, but instead his eyes had taken on that intense expression and he held his breath as he looked down at her, awaiting a response._

' _Oh Jon' She was whispering now, and she was smiling so wide he thought her cheeks must hurt, 'I love you too, I'm in love with you with everything I have' She leaned up to kiss him and he pulled her closer, holding her tight._

' _Now and always' He whispered against her lips, before pulling her to him again, and as she moved on top of him, as she bought them both a deep pleasure, he heard her say those words back._

' _Now and always'_

**Present**

* * *

They loved one another, they were man and wife, and as he thought of that his eyes snapped open and he knew the answer.

"I know what we have to do" He said, and he was emboldened by Sansa's look at him, one filled with trust, with hope, and with an utter devotion that she believed in him to fix this for them. He knew she believed in him, as he believed in her, as he had fixed her in the past and she had fixed him. They fixed one another, over and over again.

"You trust me" He didn't ask, just said it as a statement and she nodded, and at that he grabbed his cloak, threw it over her shoulders, and then pulled his own tunic back on before pulling on his boots and encouraging her to do the same. Once they were semi-dressed, she in her shift but covered by his dark cloak, he in breeches and a light tunic, both with boots on their feet did he take her hand and make for the door, the direwolves followed and Jon quickly unbolted the door.

"Jon" She did pause, at the doorway, eyes wide with apprehension, "Where are we going?"

"Do you trust me?" It was a question then, and she only took a second before nodding again, and so he nodded his head and moved forward, "Then follow me" And she did, without question, for they trusted one another, loved one another, now and always.

* * *

Sansa did trust Jon, with everything, with her life, and so she followed, trusting him in when he simply asked her to follow. She followed him quietly through the halls, out into the courtyard (and resisted the urge to complain that he could have at least let her throw on a dress), and then she realised where he was taking them.

The Godswood was just as she remembered it, and just as they had left it before it had burned, minus the thick snow on the ground and icicles on the leaves. Here, the ground was still dirt, though more brown than green, with no snow on top of it. The weirwood tree was still dominant, imposing over her. As a child she had shunned the old gods, seeking solace in the seven, during her time in Kings Landing she had turned back to her father's gods, desperately hoping for their help, once back in Winterfell she had ignored them all, gods had been of no use to her up until then, and prayer had been pointless.

The Godswood was still a beautiful place though, but she didn't think Jon had hurried her through Winterfell in the dead of night, when they had much more pressing concerns just to bring her to a pretty place.

"What are we doing here Jon?" She asked as he came to a stop just under the weirwood tree, turned to her and took both of her hands in his. She did smile at him as he looked at her before feeling just a hint of panic again, she wouldn't let anyone send him away, she wouldn't.

Jon was everything to her, and as much as she loved her family, she loved Jon more. He was her soulmate, the other half of her heart, her true love. She would not let anything happen to him, nor let them be torn apart. And so, as much as she did trust Jon, she wasn't sure what his plan was here. They needed to be thinking up excuses and stories! Not catching a chill in the night.

"We're going to marry" Well, she had often commented she enjoyed Jon's honesty, how blunt he could be, though such a thing was a terrible trait for a King. Sure, he could be diplomatic when he wished, hell she'd seen him calm rooms full of unruly northerner's before tricking southerner's into thinking he were on their side better than she could, he was adept at it when he bothered. But with her? There were no frills to his words, he was honest, and she liked that. She had spent most of her life around schemers; Cersei, Margaery, Olenna, Littlefinger, she liked the change honesty now.

"We're already married Jon" She said then with an amused smile, stating the obvious. They had married long ago now! Though she supposed technically it was in the future. Their wedding had been quick, without fuss and still the best day of her life, she remembered it like it were yesterday, stood in the very spot they were now…

* * *

**Flashback**

' _You sure you don't want more time to plan?' Jon said, in the tone of a man who had no idea how long weddings took to plan or what went into it._

_Sansa rolled her eyes at him but smiled, why he asked that now, as they were stood in front of the weirwood tree, ready to marry she didn't know, but it got a chuckle from their small smattering of guests and she giggled a little as well, 'No Jon, let's just get married'_

' _Like get it over with?' He said with a laugh but a slightly offended look to which it she rolled her eyes again._

' _Of course, not' She said, and he laughed, she could tell he was japing, 'But why wait? We both want this, we don't' need any frills'_

' _God, if 14-year-old Sansa had told me she wanted a no frills wedding I would have been sure she was an imposter' He teased and she smacked his arm as their guests laughed before giggling a little herself._

' _Perhaps you're right' She teased, 'Perhaps we should wait a little longer'_

_At that it was his turn to roll his eyes, for he knew she was teasing, 'Alright, alright' He said, taking her hands again, 'Let's marry then!'_

_A cheer rang through the Godswood at that declaration and their guests cheered again as they were wed under the old gods and kissed to seal the union. For Jon, the kiss was soft and sweet, not their first but it felt more real somehow, to be kissing to seal their marriage. For Sansa, the kiss stirred something in her, some profound happiness that she had finally married a man she cared for, a man she loved._

_The wedding was quiet, few guests and no frills, but to Sansa it was perfect, and as she looked at Jon, as he pulled her close even as they broke the kiss, she knew he felt the same._

' _To feast' Tormund yelled, and they all cheered at that again, lots of cheering made for a nice wedding. Even with few people to witness their union the cheers were loud. Tormund was the loudest of course, though Brienne's 'huzzah' certainly rang true. Bran was quieter, and Arya too though they both had smiles for the new couple, next to Arya stood Gendry, smiling too, though he barely kept his gaze from Arya. Davos was looking on proudly, Samwell grinning from ear to ear as was Ed who'd come down from the Wall. They would need to do another feast, for their bannermen and the noble Lords and Ladies but for this they had only wanted it to be the people they loved._

_All made their way inside for the feast, and yet the new couple lingered back, and Jon felt the need to say something, anything to the woman he knew he would soon love, if he didn't already._

' _So, we're married' He said, and picked her hand up to kiss it, he was rewarded with a delightful blush, though he almost blushed at what Sansa said next._

' _Not quite yet' At that his face froze and he almost stumbled to which Sansa laughed and laughed._

' _Right that's it' He said, and Sansa squealed as he picked her up in his arms, 'I think you've teased me enough today' She shrieked at him but was grinning and laughing from ear to ear as he lifted her u[. He laughed too, even as he heard Tormund yell some profanity._

_He kissed her again then, close and her hands cupped his face as he squeezed her waist. He could get used to this._

_They had kissed before of course, and she had given him her maidenhead long before the wedding, but still they left the feast early, making love as man and wife felt different somehow, felt better, and as Jon rolled onto his back and pulled his happy bride close he knew then that he loved her, and though he didn't say it, Sansa knew, as she loved him too._

**Present**

* * *

"I know" He said with a nod and Sansa resisted the urge to laugh at his expression, one that looked a bit panicked that she might be suggesting he had forgotten they had married, but at her giggle he rolled his eyes and clutched her hands tighter, clearly he wanted to get his point across and Sansa nodded, the floor was his, for she had no idea how this would fix their problems.

"But, if we marry here, under the old gods, and consummate" Jon wasn't a blusher but Sansa knew if he could he'd go red, even now after so long together he was still sometimes like a maid when it came to love making, unless they were in the bedroom of course, and then Jon was no maid, he was more caveman perhaps, though very generous when it came to the _'Lords kiss'_. Sansa blushed then, a pretty red colour across her cheeks as she thought of the first time Jon had done that to her and she had near screamed the castle down in pleasure. "They won't be able to tear us apart"

"They still could" She said, her blush gone then, her smile dimmed as the worry took back over that Jon, her Jon would be taken from her. She couldn't let them do that, wouldn't.

"No" He replied, with a fierce shake of his head and Sansa knew, Jon would find them a way out of this, he would, she trusted him, he had to. "Lord Stark respects the old gods, if we told him we married and we consummate, he will not dispute the union, he is too devout for that, even if your mother insists"

Sansa bit down on her lip then, thinking, before a smile spread across her face, he was right! She grinned, and a little squeal of delight left her lips before she threw herself into his arms, clutching him tightly. Sure, they'd still need to come up with an explanation and things would be complicated and likely unpleasant for a while, but this ensured they'd remain together! And Sansa knew, no matter what else happened as long as she and Jon were together, they could handle anything, they could deal with whatever came, and so his plan was genius in that regard.

"You know we could have just consummated and told them we married, since we already are" She said as Jon put her down and they walked closer to the weirwood tree, almost touching it then.

"No" He shook his head, "In our minds we're married but in this life? We're not. I won't dishonour you; I'll marry you before the gods first"

Again, she blushed, and she leaned forward then, to kiss him, to kiss her Jon, so thoughtful, so loving, so perfect, so honourable, even now, after all they'd been through. The kiss was soft, gentle, and Jon squeezed her waist before pulling back. "Isn't that for the end of the ceremony?" He japed, and Sansa scowled at him, to which of course he laughed before taking her hands again, in front of the gods, it was _time_.

Sansa oddly felt a little nervous which was ridiculous! They were already married! But then Jon was right, in this time they weren't. It was like doing it all over again. Part of her wanted to run inside, rouse her family, and get them out, for so many of them had been unable to attend their wedding before, but she knew that was impossible. Still, they were close by, alive, that made her smile, they were near now, as she would give herself to Jon all over again.

She was his, he was hers, now and always, and it felt right to confirm that again in this new time.

"Do you know the words?" She asked, and he nodded, for Sansa they were burned in her brain, had been since she had said them to Jon before, under this very tree, her heart already so filled with love that she hadn't even realised. Now it was fuller, filled to the brim with her love for Jon.

"I am Sansa of House Stark, I come here to be wed, a woman grown, true born and noble, I come to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim me?" She began, for there was no one to say the words for her.

"Jon of Houses Stark and Targaryen, who gives her?" He grinned, he knew now what he hadn't known back then, he was no Snow. Sansa didn't care either way about his status, though it made her proud, he was of two great houses, and more than worthy of both. He was also a great King, a King that made her proud to be his Queen.

"I do, Sansa of House Stark!" She proclaimed with a grin; this was not quite the way it was done, and Jon was grinning to. It felt appropriate in some ways, giving herself away though part of her wished her father could, here she would give herself instead. It was a little silly and they both smiled.

"Do you take this man?" Jon asked then, referring to himself. This was an odd ceremony but the ceremony of the old gods did not dictate the need for witness or signing a piece of paper, here they simply said the words before the gods, and to Sansa that was far better than the fripperies of ceremony. Here it was honest, giving themselves to one another under the gods, it was as true as any blessing could get.

"I take this man" She said, without hesitation or pause, smiling from ear to ear, and Jon was too, as he smoothed a thumb over her knuckles, he had done the same when they had married before she remembered, in reassurance, she needed no reassurance now, she would forever be sure that she wanted to be married to Jon, for the rest of their days, she knew he felt the same.

Not once had she regretted their marriage, not once had she questioned it or wanted to go back. From the moment they had said the words under this very tree she had stood by them, and she had wanted to stand by them.

It was then he pulled her into a kiss. Again, the ceremony didn't require a kiss, but he pulled her into his arms all the same and she was grinning as he did, as they held onto one another, as their lips met, harder this time, in a crushing embrace. They may have been married before but as a breeze danced over the Godswood this time felt just as good, felt just as true, and _right_ , to be married now and here, to commit themselves to one another from such a young age but so sure it would be forever.

She giggled as Jon lifted her from the ground, spun her around in his arms but did not break their kiss. She only broke the kiss to squeal as he spun around too fast and she whacked his arm, laughing the whole while.

"I'd carry you back to your room, but I'm afraid we'd get caught" He said placing her down and Sansa nodded, they still had to be careful, though Sansa knew, Jon had been right, once they consummated none could pull them apart, and that was the most important thing.

"Your room" She said instead, "Don't want anyone to hear us" She said, and he nodded before taking her hand again, and leading her back to his room, it was time to join together again. They may have been in the bodies of teenagers, but they were of wiser minds, they would consummate, to ensure they weren't torn apart, but it would be different, perhaps awkward, but Sansa of course trusted Jon completely, he would take care of her.

They would join, and they would never be parted, not by anyone, not ever.

* * *

It was a little awkward as he led her into his childhood bedroom. When they had consummated the first time it had been at their own pace, filled with passion and joy, now he loved her more than he had back then, but he was nervous. He no longer had the sure command over his body as he had when he was a man, he was wary of hurting Sansa, and it did feel awkward as they sat down on the bed next to one another.

Silence persisted for a few seconds before Jon knew Sansa must be as nervous as him. He needed to take the lead here, to step up, and so with a deep breath he placed a hand on his wife's knee and turned to meet her gaze.

"It'll be alright" He said with a nod, and she smiled at him, nodding back.

"I know, I trust you Jon" That made him smile, her unfailing trust in him often made him feel 10 feet tall.

"I love you" He said, cupping her cheek with his hand and she leaned into his touch. He would make this as good as he could for her, he would try not to hurt her, he would make her feel loved, make her feel the love he had for her.

"I love you too" She said, and he nodded, before taking her in his arms. He moved them onto the middle of the bed, placed three gentle kisses to her lips, one to each cheek, one to each eyelid and finally one to her forehead before he pulled back for another kiss on the lips. She looked expectant, though a little nervous, and she reached for his breeches but he shook his head, and instead made his way down her body, first the Lords kiss to relax her, and then he would take her for the first time in this new time, take her as man and wife, now and always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> I dialled up the fluff to 5000% in this chapter, does my next chapter need to be angsty as a result? probs. 
> 
> anywho, I hope you enjoyed, lemme know your thoughts! specifically I'd love to know if you guys like/dislike flashbacks? let me know!
> 
> also I'll totes shamelessly self promote here, if you guys enjoy asoiaf time-travel fics, check out 'the ink is dry' another time travel fic I'm doing!
> 
> speak soon


	7. Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o-kay so, not one, but two updates today! and both jonsa - ahhh (if you're not following feel free to go check out my other jonsa story updated today - 'Eyes to the East').
> 
> I do hope you enjoy, this story is tough to write, and ngl I often get quite a lot of hate for it, but eh, watcha gunna do, I like it, I'm gunna keep writing it.
> 
> do let me know watcha think, and do enjoy!
> 
> songrecs: willow - taylor swift (I told ya)

When they stopped, Jon rolling off of her, both panting, flushed, and utterly spent, did their smiles slide a little, and their idea did not seem to have as much merit.

It had been an impulse decision, in acknowledging the truth; Eddard Stark was a man of honour, devout, true, he would never break up a union recognised by the Old Gods. That they could count on, but as she looked up at the ceiling of Jon's childhood bedroom, as she cuddled under the furs and glanced at her husband, _now and always_ , she knew that wasn't all they had to worry about.

They had planned, they had planned _everything_. They had thought of how to deal with King Robert, the Lannister's, the Others, everything. What they hadn't planned was anything deviating from what they had known, with things changing as they had now.

They had assumed things would follow the timeline as it had been before, but already things had changed; they had been discovered, and that would throw the timeline into doubt, could mess up all of their plans and schemes (for there were many).

She knew now they had been stupid, arrogant even, to assume they could play this life as it had played out last time, hell they had even written it down!

_Stop Father going South._

_Fortify the Nights Watch._

_Stop Roberts death._

_Expose Jaime/Cersei._

It had been planned out, to ensure the Lannister's lost their grip on power, and the North was strong once more. They had looked at it like a battle, going through each step to achieve victory. They had spent night after night, wide awake, gulping down harsh brewed tea leaves. They had thought they were prepared, they had worked and worked. Her eyes burning as she looked at the recent history of the War of the Five Kings, Jon yawning as he sketched out supplies, strongholds, and battles.

They had thought they were ready, prepared.

But now she could see, they had overlooked what would happen if things went differently, they had thought of the long term – _stopping Father taking the position as Hand of the King, keeping Jon in Winterfell, shoring up the North_ , but they hadn't thought of the short term, of mainly not getting caught, not being exposed.

They had thought they could handle it, and she knew she was mainly to blame here. Jon was easy to hide, he would brood, frown and people overlooked him for his supposed status, but she had publicly stood up for Jon, she had made a fuss, acted out of character, and now they had been caught.

She just had to be thankful it was Father who had caught them, not her Mother, she shivered at the thought.

"It is not your fault" She near rolled her eyes then, she was sure Jon somehow, _someway_ had the ability to tell what she was thinking, a way to get inside of her head, for he always knew.

"It is" She replied with a sigh, guilt curling in her stomach, she didn't want to ruin everything! She had grown since being that lost little girl with stars in her eyes, colder, more stoic, a player, not a piece, but clearly not enough – she had given them away!

"No" He said with a shake of his head, and when he opened his arms to her she shuffled forward into them, that was an invitation she'd never refuse, even though she was spiralling in that this was all of her fault.

"We weren't careful enough" Jon said with a shrug, "And we were bound to get found out, unless we ignored one another"

"Perhaps we should have done" She said gloomily, knowing how awful that would have been.

"We couldn't have" He said with another shake of his head, "Even if we had managed it, which I could not have, I won't ignore you" He placed a kiss to her forehead then, and she felt a little better, a little warmer, "We need to meet and talk for our plans, even that would have been noticed, you know it is true"

"I suppose you're right" She said with a small sigh as she eased a little.

"What?" Jon said, and she did roll her eyes then, Jon did like to joke sometimes. It was a side not many saw, only his brothers, Nights Watch and wildling, and his family, and her. "Can I hear that again?!"

"No" She grumbled then, tucking her head into his chest, hiding her face to which he laughed.

"How did that taste to say?" He mocked, and she felt her eyes must be rolling into the back of her head.

"Like that awful vinegar Old Nan makes" She said, and he laughed again before pulling her closer.

She was tempted to fall asleep, but she did not want her Father finding them like this in the morning, they already had enough to explain, and so with a small sigh she sat up, Jon didn't argue, for he clearly had come to the same conclusion.

Quickly she dressed, but left Jon's cloak. She wasn't feeling so defiant now, just worried.

"Sansa" Jon said, standing up then and pulling her into a hug, one she gladly went into, he could clearly sense her worry. "It will be okay"

"Will it?" She whispered, and he kissed her forehead then, gentle and tender, which she leaned into, worry spiking in her that this, _them_ , would be hurt by their carelessness.

"I promise" He said pulling her close again, close enough they were almost one person, and perhaps they were, one soul, one heart.

They stayed like that for several minutes, just in an embrace before she pulled away, and looked up at him, _Jon_ , her husband, her soulmate.

"Meet me in the Godswood at dawn" He nodded at her words, "We'll need to get our story straight"

"Aye" He said, and one last kiss, this time to her lips, and she knew she had to leave, and so, she made her way to the door, but looked back once, just once.

"I love you" She said, for she did, with all of her heart, and she knew through all of this, keeping Jon was the most important thing, above all else, that was her choice, she wouldn't lose him, couldn't lose him.

She hadn't done all of this, finding a way back, breaking the laws of magic and time, to get her family back but lose Jon. No way.

"I love you too" He said with a smile, and with a nod she stepped out of his room, pulled the door shut, and went into the cold.

She knew she wouldn't sleep as she hurried to her room, she had planning to do.

She wouldn't lose Jon, not now, not ever.

* * *

He barely slept.

He'd managed to settle his wife, spin her a tale that left a bitter taste in his mouth; he hated lying, always had, always would. He had carried one lie with him for years now, and that blackened his heart each time he told it or affirmed it. He wouldn't have held onto such a lie for anyone else, anyone else but her.

Lyanna.

He hated lying, and yet when he had seen Jon and Sansa, his nephew and daughter, wrapped in an embrace neither should want, he had known he had to steer Lady Stark away, she'd have likely keeled over at such a sight.

He near had himself. To see them like that, unless they knew (and they couldn't), they should be disgusted at the idea. And the words they were saying … they had sounded crazed, he wasn't even sure he should try and pick them apart, understand them, for he couldn't, not at all.

Perhaps come morning they'd bring him answers, though … the way they'd looked at him when he revealed himself, he hoped it wouldn't be more lies.

Because, evidently when he had hauled them into his solar just a day or so earlier they had clearly been hiding something from him, he hoped they wouldn't again.

He was surprised, his children weren't liars, sure, Bran and Arya lied about climbing, about secretly watching archery practice and Rickon lied about how much he hated peas. But Robb, Sansa, Jon? They were old enough now he trusted them to be true, honest, just as he had raised them to be, it troubled him that the latter two weren't.

"Are you alright Ned?" His wife asked then, rolling over to lie on his chest. She could sense his troubles. Part of him wanted to confide in her, for like the secret about Jon he hated keeping things from her, but he knew he couldn't reveal this … at least not yet.

"Fine" He promised, placing a kiss to her forehead before settling down. He felt morning would be turbulent, perhaps it would go easier with some sleep, and so he tried to get some rest, but it wasn't easy.

And as he finally dozed off, he thought about his sister.

He dreamt of red stained sheets, the smell of winter roses, blood on his hands, Ice stood near the door, Howland bleeding down below. He dreamt of William Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Mark Rysewell, littering the Dornish sand. 6 arrived, only 2 returned.

He dreamt of Arthur Dayne, of the baking sun, of Lynna's cries, Wylla the wet nurse's expression of fear. He dreamt of the bundle in his sisters arms, of Jon, black of hair, grey eyes, no hint of his Father in him.

He dreamt of the Tower of Joy, of Jon, of Lyanna.

And he hoped tomorrow he would get the answers from her son, and his daughter … though part of him already knew, they would be answers he would not like.

* * *

Dawn came quickly.

It was still dark outside when he slipped out of bed, washed, pulled on fresh clothes, his cloak, weapons belt and made his way out of his room and to the Godswood. The servants bustled about but the rest of Winterfell slept, though he imagined his Uncle was likely wide awake after what he had heard and seen yesterday. Still, he came across none but the servants as he hurried through the courtyard.

It was strange, adjusting to being a bastard again, not that he'd ever truly shed that title, he may have discovered he was trueborn, but he would always carry that identity with him – _bastard_. It was just strange now, where he had once been treated like a King, he was now just a boy, lowly.

It wasn't the blow to his ego that bothered him, it was just so different, and he had gotten used to giving orders, not taking them, it would be an adjustment.

But as he rounded the corner to the Godswood, saw the red leaves of the Weirwood, the shimmering lake, some green still poking out from under the snow, he knew it was a necessary and worthwhile adjustment.

They were home, _together_ , and they had time to prepare for the future.

Worthwhile.

Sansa arrived soon after him, and she walked with a purpose, no doubt his Uncle had noticed that. They held themselves differently too. Jon was making more of an effort to hunch over, eyes on the floor as he had before (though he'd never truly stopped the latter, Sansa had scolded him about it more than once), but he would need to talk to Sansa. She walked like a Queen, not like a girl.

An adjustment.

Once she approached him, he smiled at her, and they shared a quick kiss. They had indulged in their own ideas of staying together the night before, but now as they both took a seat next to the lake, the cold snow barely a bother, (compared to the drifts and hills of snow from the future this light layer was nothing), they knew they had more important things to do.

He still glanced at the Weirwood for a second though, twice he had married her in front of it, and twice he had been the happiest man alive.

"So, what do we do?" Sansa asked, and he turned to her then, they had much to figure out, and he knew it wouldn't be easy convincing Eddard Stark of whatever they would wish to convince him of.

"What do you think? The truth? Or another lie?" He asked, he didn't like lying, wasn't as good at it as Sansa (but then she had tutored under Cersei, Lady Olenna, _Littlefinger_ for goodness sake; she was practically a spymaster herself), but he could, and would lie when necessary.

' _You have to be smarter than Father, you need to be smarter than Robb. I loved them, I miss them, but they made stupid mistakes and they both lost their heads for it'_

She had been right, was right, sometimes setting aside one's personal honour to succeed was necessary, that he had learned. Still, it didn't feel good to him, to lie, but he would to protect Sansa. He'd do anything to protect her and had.

"I don't want to lie" Sansa said, and he knew she told the truth, as good as she was at it he knew she found no joy in lying.

' _We all enjoy what we're good at'_

No, not everyone did.

"But it might be the only choice" She continued, and he nodded. He felt the same, he didn't want to lie any further and he thought of how much easier it would be to tell the truth, what a weight off it would be, but it had too many risks.

"The risks of telling the truth?" He found talking out risks, plans, concerns out loud was always more useful, to visualise them, to pick them apart.

"He doesn't believe us" There, that was the only risk. If Eddard Stark did believe them it would make things much easier, much, much easier, but there was too much risk he wouldn't.

"If he doesn't?" The same again; visualise, pick apart.

"He'll think we're mad" Sansa said, and he nodded.

"Think worse"

' _Sometimes when I try to understand a persons motive I play a little game. I assume the worst. What is the worst reason they could possibly have for saying what they say and doing what they do? Then I ask myself how well does that reason explain what they say and what they do?'_

Once Sansa had repeated that to him, 'a lesson from Littlefinger'. Jon hated the man, had long before he'd dispensed justice to him, and long after, but he had left behind lessons, lessons that (as much as he hated to admit it), had their use.

"He'll separate us" Sansa whispered and he nodded, that was the risk. Jon could see Eddard Stark thinking them addled, sending him to the Wall early and Sansa to a Maester to be healed. He could see a future in which Eddard Stark said nothing of such madness to anyone else, to protect them in his mind.

He wouldn't allow that to happen.

"So, we lie" Sansa said with a nod.

"Aye" He said then, taking her hands in his. It would be harder, more complicated, they would have to fully go it alone, to try and take on these impossible tasks with no help, whilst viewed as children, with no power or reputation, taking on the world. But they would be together, and that mattered more than all else.

"Okay" Sansa said, linking her fingers through his, "We lie"

And lie they would. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but the idea of losing Sansa, of being torn from her after they had taken such a risk in coming back … that would leave a far worse taste, one he could only imagine, for he would never let that happen.

"So, what is our story?" He asked this time, and Sansa looked up at him, her blue eyes meeting his grey. To others he knew they seemed cold, calculating, and he could see that to, but he also saw the warmth, the loyalty stirring in them, and he knew this was her battleground.

His was on the ground, fighting, leading, hers was here, in the shadows, sneaking, cunning, and as she began to speak, he felt a surge of pride. They'd get through this, and then onto the next thing, and they'd get through that too.

With one another they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo thoughts?
> 
> ned stark pov crops up! other pov's outside our main two will be rare but I like to sprinkle them in!
> 
> I know some will be disappointed they aren't revealing to ned, but eh, life finds a way, AND this story will have lots of twists and turns so stick with me.
> 
> also, I have been getting quite a lot of hate that jon/sansa aren't doing things perfectly: so a brief explanation: they're young, they're overwhelmed, and shit ain't going as they'd planned, cut them some slack. trust me, they are handling this far better than most would, and their skills are about to shine.
> 
> do let me know your thoughts, I love a good review, and subscribe for updates.
> 
> speak soon


End file.
